Struggle of Despair
by Ike4ever
Summary: An ominous wind, filled with the scent of despair: blood. When Cloud first makes his decision, he doesn't dream of the trouble it can cause. As Marth battles against the cruelty of his uncle he is clueless as to what is about to unfold. And as Ike marches his men into another country, he doesn't suspect that the entire course of history will soon change because of him. COMPLETE!
1. Cloud's Decision

**Yay! I'm back. Took a short hiatus to write this new one. This new story came as a sudden flash of inspiration. Takes place in an AU, but it has all the familiar smashers you love. ;-)**

 **I'd like to put down a character list. It probably won't have everyone that will be in it, as of yet, but it will for the most part.**

 **[This is semi in order of importance]**

 **Marth**

 **Cloud**

 **Ike**

 **Roy**

 **Link**

 **Ryu**

 **Lucina**

 **Pit**

 **Zelda/Sheik**

 **Shulk**

 **Robin M**

 **Palutena**

 **Reflet**

 **Samus**

 **A few other familiar names may appear, but... Yeah. Just as a quick example, Luma is a young man from Cloud's clan.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Please review with constructive criticism and let me know what you like! Thanks so much. ;-)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the character's in this story if that wasn't obvious by me posting this on Fanfiction. XP**

 **Ike4ever**

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The white, woolen tent coverings billowed in the breezes that blew fiercely and then calmly from between the mountains that flanked the entire left side of the encampment. The gurgling sound of the twin streams that wove through the camp matched the merry laughter of children as they ran and played. The gentle chatter of the women cleaning up from the late afternoon meal of wheat cakes and goat's milk mixed with the twitter of birds, the barks of dogs, and the nickers of the many steeds that grazed beside their owner's tents.

A high pitched sound pierced the air and every head turned; every ear following the sound to the crest of the small hill. A silhouette was visible, a ram's horn raised to its lips, sounding the long blast that meant it was time to pack up and move on. And as the sweet tone died away the camp was thrown into a hustle of activity, buzzing with the sounds of hundreds asking the question, "Why?"

"Sir." The blonde leapt up the hill as a deer, jumping from rock to grassy hump until he reached his leader. "Sir?"

The tall man took a deep breath and rested one hand on the hilt of his large metal sword, its tip stuck into the muddy earth. Slowly he turned to face his addresser, the icy blue eyes glinting in the sun. "What do you want to ask?" His voice was deep and stern, but it did not seem to frighten the young man, who folded his arms over his sleeveless, leather tunic.

"The horn was blown. I trust you ordered it?"

"Certainly I did," he answered shortly.

"Would you give me the freedom to speak?"

"Shulk, as my second in command, you always have that freedom unless I express otherwise."

He smiled and deftly brushed some of his wispy blonde bangs from his face. "Thank you, sir. Why?"

The shortness and simplicity of the question caused a brief, almost invisible smirk to appear on the face. "Ike."

Shulk pressed his lips together. "If I may, is he that much of a threat? We heard he only wished to go so far."

"Rumors circulate often," the leader responded icily. "They don't mean anything, especially when Ike has already reached the Gerytt river. We have to move out or be forced into his country."

Shulk nodded, licking his lips. "Cloud, do you think he would follow us over the mountains?"

"I don't believe he's _that_ bent on uniting the many clans around here. It would be a breach of conduct that could lead to all out war for him. You know the King Robin doesn't like invaders."

"And how do you think he would view _us_?" pressed Shulk quietly.

Cloud sighed and touched his long, spiked hair almost gingerly, as if afraid it might injure him. "I don't know. We aren't meaning to harm him and we'll keep to ourselves. But I'd rather face him than Ike. Robin is a pacifist as far as we have seen and from what I've heard he lives for pleasure alone. A small clan like Storm shouldn't upset him."

"And if it does?"

"Then I will attack him viciously and burn his beautiful white palace to the ground." The sudden ferocity in the words startled Shulk and he blinked his blue eyes before nodding shortly and following his leader's gaze to the bustle of activity below as their clan prepared to journey over the mountains.

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 **This was a short first chapter. I know nothing is making sense yet, but it will soon. I promise. And don't worry, I'm not someone who takes forever to post. I'm consistent unless I specify otherwise. Cheers! (Don't forget to review if you liked it!)**


	2. A Shocking Proposal

**R &R**

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The blue-haired girl hesitated in the doorway that led to the elegant balcony. Leaning both hands on the marble railing, held up by elaborate pillars, was a very depressed man as far as she could see. And she didn't wish to make him more sorrowful than he already was.

"Marth?"

Still staring out over the courtyard below, he did not turn and a sudden breeze gently blew his hair out. It settled around his head and the golden edged collar of his tunic again.

Her leather soled slippers didn't make a sound as she softly made her way over to him and hesitantly placed one of her slim white hands on his. "Marth?"

He glanced at her without turning his head and then his eyes returned to the few movements below as the gardeners calmly swept up the residue from the raucous party that afternoon. Ahead of them the sun sank behind the blue colored mountains, cresting them with orange and pink and turning the sky a pallet of multiple, bright hues. His face reflected the light and she saw his eyes were glistening.

"And why should I be the bearer of more bad news?" she murmured.

His head jerked round and he stared at her, his teal eyes sparking. "What?"

"It's nothing, Marth." She turned her face away, blinking rapidly.

His sigh was audible and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'll listen. I shouldn't mope anyway. She died a week ago."

"She was the greatest nurse we could ever have had," mumbled Lucina, sniffing.

"Yes," he said, releasing her and gently taking her by the shoulders, turning her so she faced him. He brought his arms down and took both her hands in his. "Lucina, tell me what is wrong."

Her face puckered and she threw herself at him, burying her face in his shoulder. He released her hands to hold her, brows drawn together with worry. "Lucina," he urged, "What has happened to make you so…?"

Leaving his sentence unfinished the man led her over to a small stone bench by the wall. He sat her down in it and took his place beside her, leaning forward so he could examine her face. She brought her hands up to cover her eyes and continued to weep.

"No, no, no," he murmured. "Dear sister, you have to tell me. Is it because I have been mourning, no, moping, these past weeks that you won't tell? I promise to change. I promise. What's wrong?" he insisted, on the verge of panic now as she sobbed harder.

"I can't bear it," she choked, trying to wipe away her tears. But they only flowed faster as she began to speak and she took her dress' skirt and brought the cotton to her eyes, dabbing viciously. "Marth, you won't believe it."

He gathered her in his arms again. "Perhaps not, but I will believe your tears. Something has upset you and you will tell me what—" He broke off and stood abruptly, towering over her. "If it is that son of a coward, Corrin, I will kill him myself!"

"No, no," she protested, Corrin's name bringing on a fresh flow of tears. "I love Corrin and I wish he would marry me."

"Suffering fool that he is," growled Marth. "Leave him in the dirt and don't trust his fancy words. He's a troublemaker."

"Don't say such things," she protested, again drying her tears with her dress. She stood, gasped in a breath of air, and opened her mouth. She closed it again and swallowed. And he waited.

"Robin," she whispered.

"What has Uncle done this time?"

"He's… proposed."

"What proposition that has made you so upset?"

"No, Marth," she protested, eyes filling again. "Proposed an offer of marriage. To me!"

Marth's face drained and his hands trembled as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Don't jest with me! Don't jest with me!"

She let the tears fall, silently shaking her head as her stomach twisted.

"He couldn't!" Marth released her roughly and she sat back down on the bench; hard. "He can't do such a thing!" the man continued, stomping towards the railing. He began to pace, his boots thudding on the white tile in a steady, even rhythm.

"He's your uncle! How could he have feelings for his own niece? Of all the preposterous, revolting things he's done so far! And he's done many. I can't give you over to him. I won't let him take you!"

"Marth, he's the k-king," she stammered, choking on a sob that caught in her throat.

"And I am his successor! I'll kill him myself if I need to in order to keep you from such a horrific fate. His wife!"

"Hush," she urged fearfully, leaping up and hurrying to his side. She pressed a slender finger to his lips. "He won't hesitate to kill you for treason if you speak like that."

"I don't care!" he declared rashly. "This cannot be allowed to happen." He began walking again and she sank against the railing, her eyes straying from her brother to look far below at the courtyard, now empty of servants. It would be easy to throw herself down…

"Lucina!"

Marth's voice brought her to attention and she met his fierce gaze. "Don't kill yourself. I promise you I will stop this. I will die before it can happen. What have you said to him? When he asked you, what was your response?"

"I could make no response," she admitted, swallowing and shaking her head. "He laughed at my pale face and said I was simply too honored to think straight." Her lips trembled and he was by her side with two strides. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, trying to gain strength from him. But nothing could keep the fear from growing into an ever larger knot inside her stomach. Again she swallowed.

"Marth, how will you stop him?"

"I don't know. I don't care. But I will. I have at least some weight with him, being his successor to the throne; heir to his kingdom."

"He doesn't care, Marth." Hopelessness surrounded her. "He doesn't care. You know Robin. He cares for nothing and no one. He wishes only to satisfy his own pleasures in whatever way he can—"

"Stop speaking words of hopelessness," Marth countered, a mask of anger in his tone. "I will speak with him and we will see what he says."

"When?"

"When did he propo…present this appalling offer to you?"

"Today. Just after all the guests left."

Marth nodded stiffly. "Then tomorrow I will go to him."

She laid her head on his chest, listening to the fast thumping of his heart. And she heard him murmur, "Oh, that father were king instead."

"It wouldn't matter if he was," Lucina whispered. "He's been dead for years."

"And we are left to suffer," he groaned.

One of her tears dropped onto the front of his coat as she squeezed her eyes shut.

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 **Good, good. Suspense yet? Who likes Robin? Doesn't he sound like a great guy? Hm. That's... that's not funny.**


	3. A Conquerer's Tent

**Ah. Next chapter up. Need I remind y'all to review? Is it such a pain?**

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Through the shadows of whispering trees and the dark, ominous tents of an army, a man strode. His boots crunched through the dried leaves and twigs that littered the ground and his cape billowed out behind him with the swiftness of his gait. He ran a hand through his bright crimson hair as he approached an indigo colored tent.

One hand deftly tapped the clasp of his purple cape as he gazed up at the emblem embroidered at the top of the tent's opening. With a deep sigh he ducked to enter, brushing against the folds of course cloth.

"Did you do as I asked?" came the deep voice of his sovereign, even before he had fully adjusted to the bright orange light coming from numerous interior torches.

"Yes, Ike. They're ready and fully prepared to move at dawn."

"Good." The burly man rubbed his mouth with his hand as if in deep thought before turning to the blonde one beside him. "How's your wife, Link?"

A chuckle escaped both lower generals at the abrupt change of topic and Ike rolled his eyes skyward before glancing back at Link, awaiting his answer. Because no matter the question, he was always answered.

"She is doing wonderfully well. Her tongue and wit are as quick as ever. I'm having trouble keeping up," he added, winking. "Too bad you're not married, Roy," he continued, turning to his friend. "You'd have more sympathy for me."

"I wouldn't get married to someone I would argue with," he proclaimed.

Ike snorted. "Then you're doomed to remain an old man with no happiness in life. Like me."

"You haven't done so bad yourself," Roy responded, smiling slightly.

Ike had no response and he wasn't forced to give one.

Roy sat down on a horse's saddle, stretching out his legs in front of him and tapping his cape's clasp again. "To your benefit Ike, I do believe my people are much happier under you."

"That's because they're not all dying," Ike growled, but it was a goodnatured sound and Link's chuckle was heard.

"True indeed, Roy. I think you have accidentally slighted yourself."

"And how's that?"

"Obviously you weren't strong enough to keep your people in check."

"I had no power! No one from my father's generation liked me and the young ones say I couldn't keep them back. If they want something from another clan, they take it. You know that as well as I do."

Link twiddled his thumbs as he leaned back against one of the tent's thick supporting posts. "Oh, surely, surely. My clan never did that."

"That's why it was almost obliterated," Roy returned haughtily.

Link flamed briefly. "Well that was simply because of a single jealous clan overlord! Otherwise we were left alone." He shrugged. "You draw attention to yourself and it's usually detrimental. I'm extremely glad the clans were united. It was a wise decision."

"Stop flattering me in a backwards way while I'm right here," Ike said, perusing the map spread out on the flat-topped chest before him.

Roy raised both eyebrows at Link who raised his back; twice.

"And stop raising your eyebrows as if I can't see you," Ike continued, straightening to give both of them a fierce glare.

"Your cause is worthy, that's all," answered Link. "Saved my life and the lives of… everyone I held dear."

"I know my cause is worthy," Ike returned.

"A little selfish, I think," said Roy, folding his arms and winking. "Surely a worthy goal, but you still are the one who is keeping all the power."

"No one else could keep all these clans united," Ike growled. "And you know it."

Roy nodded. "Yes, I know. But what about now, eh? This Empress Palutena who calls herself a goddess? She's not a clan, but a kingdom."

"And she is cruel to her people and followers," Link continued, defending his leader.

"So Ike is policeman for the world? Why risk men to help poor fools who don't know how to revolt, Link-eye?"

"I outrank you, Roy," Link snapped. "Watch your tongue."

"You both are giving me a headache," Ike growled. "Link, second-in-command doesn't mean you need to defend my every move. You are a support and general, not my guardian. My sword keeps me plenty safe, if you haven't noticed. Roy, in answer to your question, these united clans are still different and will still become argumentative, as we've seen, in a confined space. Palutena's land is sparsely populated and is perfectly suitable for my purposes in keeping the peace amongst… my people by spreading them out. Besides, information for you two only, I liked killing stupid rulers. In fact, if the time is right, I wouldn't mind crossing the mountains to attack Robin."

"Definitely a greater one of the kings," Link remarked.

"Granted. But weak at heart," Ike returned.

"And how violent do we plan to be for this raid?" Roy asked. "Er… conquest, should I say?"

"Yes," the leader returned, planting both of his large hands on either side of the map. "Conquest. It will be as violent as it needs to be. We will treat this like the uniting of the clans. If they surrender, we leave them alive unless they appear hostile, in which case they are captured. If they fight, they die."

"Simple and to the point," said Link, nodding appreciatively. A smile flickered across his face and he winked at Roy. "I can't wait to see the look on this "goddess'" face when we storm the golden gates of her palace."

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 **Well and tada. Who's the most sympathetic character so far in the first three chapters? I mean besides Lucina.**

 **Oh, and Maxcy, Robin isn't thinking ahead. Lucina's very sweet and he wouldn't suspect she'd kill him. She's not super brave. Plus, all these countries are sorta... primitive. The royalty are royalty by rank and riches, but they aren't too much richer than other people. Only the king (Robin) has any power as well as his general, Ryu. Lucina doesn't have a... posse, even though she's a princess. Marth doesn't have one either, though he's the crown prince. I don't know. It's a little... fun to make the main(er) characters weaker than their enemies, right?**


	4. Confronting A Tyrant

**And here I am again.**

 **Legend of Conan, I'd like to clarify real quick and say that Ike is whatever you take him to be. In later chapters his character will be delved into further and he may or may not turn out to be wicked or who knows what.**

 **I'd also like to add quickly that reading different history books I find that the leaders make different decisions and just... kill and attack and plunder and pillage and don't think about it as bad. So I'm going to try to put that in here a little bit. Maybe. We'll see. I'll stop now.**

 **Don't forget to review! ;-)**

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Marth strode down the hall, his footsteps echoing through the corridor ominously, as if there was an army coming to meet him. Certainly facing Robin _felt_ like confronting a battalion. He hesitated as he approached the two oaken doors, crisscrossed with the design of hundreds of leaves on a thriving tree. Marth knew the symbolization.

The tree was the kingdom and the roots that seemed to grow into the floor meant the leaders; the largest root was the king. But if the door painted a true picture of his country, the tree was withering and nearly dead. Certainly the main root was giving no nourishment to the many leaves.

"Ah," said a low voice behind him.

Marth whirled, his heart beginning to beat fast. It settled slightly as he recognized the king's sister. Her black cloak hung about her ominously, as if she were death, coming to await his approaching destruction. The golden edges of the wide sleeves glinted as she placed one of her small hands on his shoulder. "Marth."

"Reflet. How may I help you?"

"Marth," she repeated, her voice low and whispery.

He swallowed and took a small step backwards. Her hand dropped to her side again. "Is your husband in the throne room with our king?"

A slight smile passed across her pale face and she brought up a finger to twirl the end of one of her two ponytails around her pinky. A small nod. "You came to ask Robin something of deep importance, no?"

Reflet's eery knowledge irked Marth, but he nodded. "Yes, I have." His voice sank slightly lower. "Has Lucina spoken with you? Or do you know?"

Another small flicker of amusement traveled over her lips. "Marth, if you came to beg Robin to rethink his proposal, you are playing with a dead dog. He won't listen to you. But certainly you know that." She turned away as if to leave.

"Reflet," he said hastily.

One brown eye glittered as she looked over her shoulder and waited.

"You know Robin better than anyone. Is there no way he would reconsider? She is his own niece!"

Worry appeared as she knit her eyebrows and faced him again, a cautioning hand to her lips. "Robin cares about nothing but pleasure," she whispered.

"Then speak with your husband. Robin gives his advice great consideration."

" _More_ consideration than others," she remarked with scorn. "Not great consideration. He listens to his own head. And there's not much in there that has to do with logic."

"But he is so much older than she," Marth began again, a frown forming on his face as he remembered his sister's tears from the night before.

A sigh came from the woman and she shook her head. "Ryu wouldn't help Lucina anyway. He knows how to stay in good graces with my brother. And, for your own safety Marth, since you know how to keep Robin happy as well, I suggest you do so. Nothing will sway him from this and he will take your sister as his wife. You have nothing to do. Unless you want to risk his wrath… you would be wise to leave now."

"I won't do nothing," Marth returned angrily.

"Silly boy," she murmured.

"Yes, but braver than you," he bitterly answered.

"Surely." Her tone was almost musical as she laughed hollowly and made her way down one of the branching halls.

Marth turned back to the door and knit his eyebrows, brushed his blue hair from his eyes and entered the throne room.

Robin sat at the far end of the room, lounging in his square, marble throne. It was much too large for him, but his black cloak, only slightly more decorated than Reflet's, was thick and filled the seat. Marth determined not to think on how that reflected off his uncle's leadership and gave Robin a smile.

"And how is my fair nephew? As elegantly beautiful as ever, I see." The king's tone was filled with amusement that was simply there because it had to be in order to disguise the insult. Not that the thin veil hid it from Marth. If Robin had sounded sincere the blue-haired prince would still have not been fooled into thinking he was truly trying to complement him.

"I am well, my king, uncle Robin."

"Good, good. And your sister?"

Marth felt his face flame. "That is a subject I am not as sure on, sire."

"Ah." Robin settled back and raised his eyebrows briefly, clearly indicating he was well prepared for the fight at hand.

Marth swallowed and glanced at Ryu. Reflet's husband had never looked more muscular. The prince was certain that if he wasn't the general of Robin's army, he would be Robin's personal bodyguard. Which was a position he seemed to fill right now, as he stood protectively on the right side of the throne, large spear in hand. His face was impassive, but the black eyes flashed annoyance. He was well aware that the prince was going to insist on this foolishness.

Seeing no outward hostility from the strongest man in the room, Marth let his gaze return to his uncle. "Robin, Lucina is your niece."

Robin smiled condescendingly. "Yes, Marth, I know that."

Marth nodded. "You remember, of course that your father bore my father, you, and then Reflet. And then my father married a young woman and she became the mother of Lucina and I. And you have not gotten married as of yet, meaning I am the heir to the throne."

"You have certainly studied genealogies well," remarked Robin, reaching for his glass of wine. "Now tell me, do you come her for your sister's sake, or your own?"

Marth blinked. "Pardon?"

"You are worried that perhaps _your_ future nephew will take over your current rank of successor?"

Marth gnawed the side of his cheek in disgust at the thought of Lucina bearing Robin's child. "On the contrary, sire, I can assure you that that is _not_ the thought foremost in my mind. I would gladly relinquish my claims to the throne if there… appeared a male relative who was closer to you. I am worried about my sister." He paused, waiting for Robin to prompt him.

"And why is that?"

"You offered her a proposal of marriage, sire. She told me so. Surely, besides the great age difference between you, her being eighteen and you…forty one, there is also the issue of…incest in mind. It would hardy be deemed proper by anyone if this…arrangement came to pass. You are wise, and know that birth defects are likely when relatives intermarry and the…" Marth searched for a better word than 'disgusting match' and came up empty. "I-it would be an outrage to do this, sire, is what I'm trying to say. And this is as much in your interest as in the interest of my sister, Lucina." He stopped and took a breath.

Robin was chuckling. "Marth, you always were so absolutely adorable when passionate on a certain subject." He sighed contentedly. An instant later the passive face had been filled with a thundercloud and the brows met, a single frown line forming on the forehead. His eyes flashed lightening and he stood, knocking his wineglass onto the tiled floor. It shattered with a musical tinkle and Marth flinched.

"Marth, no one tells me what to do. No one suggests I do something other than what I have already set my mind to. AND YOU KNOW IT! You may be successor, but that does not give you the ability to enter this throne room and tell me I am WRONG! And trust me," he continued, voice sinking to a sly hiss, "it would not ever be difficult for me to remove you."

Marth knew this 'removal' didn't mean Robin having a son. As someone who had always dreaded assassination since his father's death, Marth found that his hands were trembling and he stepped back as Robin advanced, black coat billowing out behind him as he stepped down from his throne.

"I will marry your sister. I love her. She is beautiful. I want her and I will have her because I am the king! And no one, repeat, no one will get in my way! AM I UNDERSTOOD?" His advance had continued and Marth found he was halfway to the door now and still retreating.

"Do you wish to stay in the palace? Do you wish to stay…alive?" His voice was rising ever higher, ever shriller. "Marth, you will stop your impudence or I will hang you for treason and do not think, NOT FOR A SECOND, that I will not do so! Now go bring your sister here! I want to speak with her. Alone."

Marth's face paled. "I assure you she would faint if you ordered that, s-sire."

"Marth!" Robin howled.

Marth cowered.

"Ryu! Take this pitiful prince and remove him from my sight this instant!"

Five long strides and the general was towering over Marth, his body blocking the prince's view of his uncle's furious but confident look. One of the large hands wrapped itself around Marth's collar and cape and he was lifted up as if he were a stray dog that had found its way into the kitchen uninvited.

Marth gritted his teeth and winced as the door opened. An instant later he had landed with a hard smack on the cold ground of the hallway outside. A sharp pain shot up his elbow and he lay still for a moment before getting to his feet with a small grunt and softly touching his back and arm.

"Well, well," came Reflet's voice as she walked past him, a book in her hands. "How far has your bravery and good intentions gotten you?"

Marth drew his hand across his face, stomach in a knot. He was in such a helpless position. Title meant nothing, and never so much as in that moment did he wish he was simply a commoner. Better yet, a clansman from the country beyond the mountains. His weary steps brought him to his room.

The slam of a door closing echoed through the palace.

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 **No, seriously, review with thoughts and constructive criticism and... all that jazz.**

 **And no, in case you were wondering, Marth can't help Lucina escape because then Robin will kill him, find her, and marry her anyway. So... yeah.**


	5. A goddess' angel

**Another chapter up. Again, please review and tell me what you think. I LOVE feedback. Pretty much everyone does, but I don't mind constructive criticism (with a healthy dose of what you liked ;-).**

 **Pit appears!**

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The sounds of screaming and yelling from outside excited the boy. Perhaps it shouldn't have. An enemy attacking the palace itself, especially one as feared as this indigo-haired, head clansman, wasn't something to enjoy. Yet it was exciting.

Thoughts of escape were prevalent in his mind. These fierce men from beyond the river killed with ease and weren't known for hesitating, whether their victims were men, women, or children. And certainly the chief angel to the goddess was not a position they would look favorably upon.

"Pit, stop looking so sparkly eyed," hissed the young man's darker twin. He brushed his black hair from his eyes and wrinkled his forehead. "Why do you think she's not allowing us in her room?"

"She's trying…" Pit hesitated as a crash sounded below and the noises multiplied in intensity. "She's working miracles, I believe. Don't worry Kuro. Of course she'll…"

Another crash from below and the fierce pounding of many hurried footsteps coming up the stairs. The two young men exchanged a glance and the golden door to their queen's room burst open.

"Inside," she hissed. "Now!"

They dove in, somersaulting to avoid a face-first crash into the coarse carpet. The goddess did not give her usual remonstrations about caring for their feathered wings and instead urged them towards her, the oaken staff in her right hand waving threateningly. The two scrambled to their feet and stood in front of her.

"What do we do?"

Her eyes blazed. "The gods above aren't responding to my pleas. Always such idiots, they have forsaken me in this desperate time of need. I have my magical horse awaiting me outside this window and both of you are to let me down and stall…"

There was a thud as something struck the door with force. Pit's blue eyes widened, but they didn't stray from his mistress' face.

"Now," she hissed, handing them the white drapes that had covered her windows.

Pit tied quickly, desperately making sure the knots were as tight as he could manage. His twin worked twice as fast.

* * *

With a splintering sound the hinges pulled away from the elaborately painted frame and the door fell with a crash onto the floor. Ten men, armed to the teeth, filled the hall and in the front stood the most feared man in the world as of yet. The hair was unmistakable and the hulking figure, brandishing a bloody, two-handled sword did not disappoint any expectations.

"Where is Palutena?" The deep voice grated with fierceness and beside him Pit heard Kuro moan very slightly. Yet the wide blue eyes didn't stray from the cerulean irises of the invader, though Pit's peripheral picked up a slight movement of Ike's leaf-tipped blade. There were two options: Answer him or die.

"The goddess, her highness Palutena? She escaped." His young voice did not tremble and his eyes stung as he kept himself from blinking.

Ike's gaze was just as even and the eyebrows drew together slightly. "How?"

An answer was in order. He had to say something. Kuro's fingers squeezed his desperately, but Pit ignored the warning. Answer or no, they would die.

"We let her out the window. She escaped on a magical horse."

The silence was long and dreadful. It filled the room and the buzzing of a fly as it flew in the open window was somehow ominous. The man just behind Ike's right shoulder moved his hand to swat away the insect and Pit's eyes shut and opened again in a quick blink. How was he not dead yet?

"Why are you wearing those wings?" Ike's voice was even, yet held a tinge of scorn. And under that scorn Pit wilted.

His voice sounded very small and tentative in his own ears as he answered, "If she is a goddess she must have angels."

Ike's eyes filled with anger and flashed briefly. "And if she is a diluted, insane ruler?"

Pit swallowed as his eyes twitched and filled with tears. "Then she is powerful enough to force her servants to perform ridiculous services for her."

Never could the young man have expected pity to fill the eyes of this legendary leader. He had seen an emotion like sympathy in the eyes of his brother when he would drag himself to their room after an extraordinarily rough beating from their sovereign, but no one else paid attention to him. He was high ranking as the servant closest to Palutena, yet ignored because the others knew weakness when they saw it. Though no one stood up to Palutena, he had been looked down on because her threats had forced he and Kuro to do her every whim and fancy; flatter her and play along with her 'game' that was somehow very real. Lack of complying meant a fierce beating. And Pit knew that no matter how long he had served her, he was always replaceable.

"Men, go secure the area," Ike ordered. "Link, take these two and make sure they're cared for."

"Yes, sire," responded a young blonde. He brushed his damp, shaggy hair from his eyes, and gave a small smirk that was almost a legitimate grin. "Come with me, you two. Don't fear. Your 'goddess' is gone."

It was confusing that he should tell them not to fear now that Palutena had fled the palace and a fierce leader had stormed the walls and taken over their country. And yet…it was true. Pit's fear had never been as small as it was then, and he allowed Kuro to grab his hand as they followed the man out of the room, down the desecrated hall, and out of the prison they had known for five years.

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 **Isn't Pit such a sweetheart? Shouldn't he be scared? At least a little, right? Come on, dude, you're being taken away from the only (terrible) life you've ever known. I decided it wouldn't be necessary to go into too much detail with Palutena's abuse.**

 **Review!**


	6. Robin's Decision

**And back to the palace with Marth... er, Lucina and Robin, rather. I promise nothing graphic in this chapter.**

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The oaken doors were thrown open and Lucina's heart flew into her throat as she turned to see Robin enter his throne room. She cowered by the wall, her fingernails digging into her palm as his brown eyes sparkled and a smile played across his face.

"Lucina! You came when I summoned. I am proud of you. Certainly that is the mark of a good wife."

She tried not to cringe, clenching her jaw to keep her lips from trembling. Her shaking hands clutched the folds of her skirt and she curtsied wobbly, standing. "What did you need me for, sire?"

"What else, my sweet?" He did not add to the ambiguous sentence and approached her. One smooth hand caressed her cheek. "You are beautiful beyond description," he whispered, drawing his hands behind his back and pacing around her.

She flinched as he suddenly grabbed her shoulders gently from behind and his voice tickled in her ear. "Don't you love me too?"

"As a niece loves her uncle," she responded, choking on a sob.

He caressed her hair and slowly turned her so she faced him. She kept her eyes looking at the ground, heart pounding against her ribs with frightening ferocity. "My sweet," he breathed. His breath smelled of wine and she wrinkled her hose ever so slightly. The next moment he was leaning towards her for a kiss.

The slam of the wooden doors as they flew back on their hinges caused him to step back abruptly, eyebrows knit.

"Sire!" Ryu's voice echoed through the room as his black boots thudded across the scarlet carpet that led to the throne.

Robin brushed past her and set himself down on his marble seat. "What is it, Ryu? I was busy."

Lucina's stomach churned as she waited for Ryu to apologize and leave. He did neither and folded his muscular arms over his chest. "Sire, this couldn't wait. A clan of about two thousand strong has crossed the mountains west of here and are currently in our land as well. They have not attacked as of yet…"

"What?" Robin screamed, leaping from his throne. "I'm being invaded! How dare they? Who have they killed?"

"None as of yet, sire," Ryu continued, glaring. "The—"

Again Robin interrupted him. "Kill them! Kill them all!"

"Well, I was going to ask if that was the course of action you wished to pursue, sire, because they haven't shown outward hostility as of—"

"Are you listening to me? Kill them I said! Take the whole army and kill them! All of them!"

"Captives?" Ryu questioned, still unmoved from the position he had taken from the beginning.

"None," Robin hissed. He paused and cocked his head, as if to consider something. "Unless the clan's leader has a wife. If he does, bring her."

Lucina's face flamed hot. She shouldn't have cared, naturally. Invading clans were to be dealt with, but that he would propose to her and then ask for… She shook her head to clear it and found that Ryu had left. Her blue eyes flicked over to Robin, watching his face.

The red cheeks were a stark contrast with his white hair and his teeth were gritted. "What are you doing here?" he shouted, whirling on her.

"I don't know," she quavered.

"Then get out or die!"

She hoisted up her skirt and fled.

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 **Ugh, I hate Robin. Sorry if this chapter was uncomfortable...**

 **Please review. :-)**


	7. A New Mother

**Guys, a warning: Pit is innocent. Too innocent, but just... the way he was... raised... Okay, I'm not going to say anymore. Just... yeah. And this chapter's super short, but... Okay, I'll stop. Please review. ;-)**

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She moved around the tent easily, her white skirts swishing over her legs as she prepared two bowls of hot soup. The aroma didn't match her looks, for chicken smelled of outside and ugliness while Pit had never seen anyone so beautiful.

Her face turned toward him and the bright eyes, surrounded by long, dark eyelashes, twinkled as a smile broke across her face. "I see you have woken up. I have prepared some soup for you and your brother, when he arises as well. Are you comfortable?"

"Yes," he managed. Her voice was like bells; breathtaking, and he found his throat was suddenly constricted as if it was being squeezed.

"And what is your name?"

"Pit, highness."

The laughter filled the tent with sunshine and she swept over to him, sinking to her knees beside his shoulder. "I am not a queen, young man. I am simply a woman."

"You are a goddess."

A frown passed across her face. "No, Pit. Not a goddess. There is no such thing that exists. Certainly not that I have experienced." Her brow cleared. "I am Link's wife."

"Who is Link?" But he suddenly remembered, even as the words left his mouth. How could such a creature as delicate and elegant as the one who sat beside him be the wife of that… simple man?

"Oh, how could I describe him," she mused, cocking her head slightly. Her brown hair shimmered as the rays of sun shining through the open entrance caught it. "He has blonde hair and blue eyes like almost anyone else." Another laugh rang through the tent and Pit found a smile cross his face as well; the first in a long while.

"What is your name, fair mistress?"

"My name is Zelda."

"Do you have children?"

Another laugh, a little shorter and harsher this time. "No. No children."

"Would you wish for any?"

There was the hint of annoyance in her bell-like voice as she answered, "What question is that, coming from one such as yourself?"

Pit felt his cheeks grow warm. "Forgive me. I—"

"It doesn't matter. Yes, I would want children." She smiled and her lips parted to reveal straight, white teeth. "I believe they might look like you."

His eyes shone for her. "Would they truly? Then perhaps… I could be your child."

Her smile slowly faded and she cocked her head as she leaned forward to look him straight on. "Would you wish that, Pit?"

"I would."

A sad smile appeared and one hand briefly touched each eye, as they suddenly shone with tears. "Then I will be most happy to have you. How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"And I am twenty seven. Though naturally I would not have borne any child at ten…" She trailed off and her sweet laughter filled the room for the third time. "You are now my son."

Pit suddenly found himself enfolded by her arms and he took in the sweet scent of cotton and spices as he return her embrace.

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 **I love Zelda. ^_^ She's so sweet. And Pit, man! Gotta love him. And Robin... Yeah, I keep going back to him. I just can't... I really hate him right now.**

 **Don't forget to review your thoughts!**


	8. Scent of Despair

**Back with another chapter y'all! Again, I apologize for the...shortness, but I'll try to get up another one soon following. And again, please review with what you thought about this chapter. I appreciate it, guys! :-D**

 **Ah, and I don't think this is too violent or anything, but... it's the aftermath of a battle.**

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Cloud dropped his sword on the ground and grasped his bicep between his fingers, squeezing tightly; teeth gritted. He refused to give way to his legs, which threatened to buckle at any moment. The warm sticky blood that oozed from beneath his palm aggravated him further because he knew this was not the worst of the wounds the soldiers had inflicted on his army. Victory meant nothing to the blonde leader if people died. Victory was simply a solution to keep more lives from being taken, but it was not inherently good to him in itself. Certainly not now; with the wounded and dead scattered all around him.

"Sir!" Shulk's blue eyes were lit up with worry as he hastily saluted his leader. "Y—"

"Shulk, don't say anything foolish," Cloud growled. His eyes sparked blue fire and he glanced down at the grass, stained a dark red. His gaze returned to his second-in-command's face. "I was wrong."

Shulk's eyes found the ground and he said nothing.

"I was wrong," Cloud repeated, eyes flashing. His hand dropped to his side and a fresh river of blood flowed down his bare arm. He stooped and hefted up his large blade, fingers tightening around the handle that fit his grip. "Order Samus to lead the women in organizing a party to separate the dead from the wounded, tend the injured and… I want you to stay with them. Any of the enemy that is found wounded…I want them killed."

"Yes, sir."

Cloud released a shuddering sigh as Shulk made his way over to the blonde young woman who stood alone by the edge of the group of soldiers. Her head nodded as Shulk spoke with her and her eyes flicked over to Cloud. Even from the distance, he could see one of her thin dark eyebrows raise as she tossed her blonde ponytail over her shoulder, as if throwing the past behind her.

She would be like that. The past didn't matter to her. But it mattered to Cloud, because in the past Ike had killed anyone who rose up in rebellion to his growing 'nation'. It was recently, very recently, that Cloud had watched an army streaming towards them, the intent to kill seen in their eyes. And they _had_ killed, though not to the extent they had obviously planned.

He found his right ankle was not working properly, and limped around the body in front of him. He glanced at Luma, one of the youngest warriors there. The young man clutched his stomach in one hand; sword in the other. His honest black eyes me the icy ones of his leader. "We beat them, Cloud."

"Not a reason to rejoice," Cloud responded shortly.

Luma nodded and glanced over at the stream of women making their way through the men and sat back against his horse, which lay beside him as it had probably been ordered to by its master. Cloud patted its neck and moved on, glaring at the women, glaring at the men around him, and glaring at the bright red that streamed down his arm like rivulets of water from a main source. This main source would take a while to stop up.

As he sat in his tent, waiting for Shulk to report, Samus entered as well, moving silently about, pouring water in his cup and laying out a meal on his wooden chest. "Your horse is being taken care of," she said in her breathy voice, coming to kneel beside him and change his drenched bandage.

"Thank you." He didn't need to tell her that his steed was the least of his worries; she knew that. A sharp intake of breath followed the sentence as she began to wash his wound. The raspy feel of the cloth against his raw skin wasn't as comforting as it might have been and he grew impatient. "Bind the wound," he snapped, abruptly feeling remorseful as her slender fingers quickly wrapped his arm in the dirty-white cotton and she stood to leave.

Shulk entered, the breeze that blew in with him carried the repulsive scent of blood with it and Cloud's nose twitched.

"Eleven dead of ours, sir. Sixty wounded more seriously…again ours. I killed three of theirs and…" He listed on his fingers and his forehead wrinkled. "I believe it was fifty or so of theirs dead. As you know, the rest fled."

"Any chance they'll be back?" asked Cloud shortly, pulling distractedly at the high collar of his woolen shirt.

"Not soon anyway," Shulk remarked. "I believe we gave them exactly what they _didn't_ expect." The young man seemed to notice Samus for the first time and his eyebrows rose. "Shouldn't you be with your family?"

Cloud jerked his head sideways to look hard at her. "Why?" he asked Shulk, his gaze fixed on the young woman.

He gave a brief pause and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Her brother was one of the dead, if I remember correctly."

Samus slowly raised her head and met Cloud's stiff look beneath her long lashes. "I'd prefer to be here."

Cloud read the veiled pain and forced calm in her voice and his head sank down onto his hand. He said nothing for a while, wishing the two would leave him be. "Falcon was a good fighter," he muttered. "It's my fault he's gone."

"You had no choice," Shulk argued, coming to the defense of Cloud's initial decision to enter Robin's kingdom. "Did you wish to give us over to Ike?"

"Perhaps he would have been gentle if we had joined him peacefully," Cloud returned wearily.

"And you would let us be spread out and lose our heritage?" Shulk answered. "A disgrace to our fathers before us. Death is better by far."

Cloud saw Samus nod her agreement as she stood and he gave a reluctant sigh. "I suppose. Leave me now." They turned and exited the tent and Cloud let out a deep breath. Somehow, despite that he had grown up with fierce clan distinction and pride of their unique ancestry and heritage…losing that rather than losing the lives of his men didn't seem to balance in the scales. He'd much rather still have Falcon and the complete faith of his people in his abilities to lead.

The flap to the tent billowed inward as a gust of wind blew along the plains. It was an ominous wind filled with the scent of despair: blood.

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 **Again, questions about confusing elements or constructive criticism or general encouragement or specific encouragement? REVIEW!**

 **See ya soon!**


	9. Reporting to Ike

**Another chapter! Yahoo, all! Thank you to everyone following the story! I hope you like. Not that I know unless you review... JK, even though it's true.**

 **I hope y'all enjoy. I'll post another chapter really soon, but it's short. Short, but important. Like, hopefully all chapters, though some are more important. Sigh. I'll stop now.**

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Across the mountains that separated Robin's kingdom from those surrounding his, sat the palace of gold that had housed the green-haired ruler who had called herself a goddess, but had succumbed to the power of 'mere mortals'. And beneath the lengthening shadows cast by the towering turrets spread Ike's army's encampment. The vivd scarlet tents from the clans Roy had led merged with the forest colored cloth of Ike's men. And the sparse indigo tents showed where the general's dwelt.

Into one of them Link entered and saluted his leader. "Sire? News."

Ike glanced up and there was a brief stare down before he growled, "Stop."

Link colored and coughed slightly. "Well, yes, the news _is_ controversial. I wasn't sure if it would make you happy or not."

"And so you hesitate further?" Ike snarled, standing to face his highest general and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I wouldn't dream of tempting you like that," Link returned, beginning to remove his leather gloves. "That single clan, Storm, that crossed over the mountains? They have attacked the capital of Robin's kingdom in response to a recent strike on their own encampment. They've burned most of the city and have only left the palace intact. Obviously a warning from their leader, a certain Cloud. Robin has not responded as of yet, it seems." He stopped, tucked both gloves into his belt, and placed his hands on his hips, waiting.

Ike pursed his lips thoughtfully and his glare intensified. "I can't make a decision now. A day. Thank you for the information."

Link saluted, nodded at the blue-eyed Pit crouching in the corner, and whirled out of the tent. Ike sat again and took a long drink from his leather-bound vessel of water. As he wiped his mouth he glanced at Pit and saw the young man was watching is every move with the solemn eyes wide open as usual.

"Does my drinking interest you so much?"

"No, sire."

"Then perhaps my image?"

"In part, sire, yes." He cringed slightly at the boldness of his words and found, to his great surprise, Ike chuckled.

"The news, maybe?"

"Certainly."

"If you were in my place, what course of action would you take?" Ike questioned, turning to face him full on.

Pit stood in respect and looked thoughtfully about him. "It would depend on my goal."

"Your goal is to gain land that is not being put to good use and put it to good use."

"Well, then I would see if Robin has been using his land and people properly. If not, I would invade and conquer him and set up a vassal in his place, as you appointed in the place of Palutena. And of that clan… I would see how they have been fairing and deduct whether they would fare better under my…your control, or are doing quite well on their own."

"I doubt they're doing well on their own," Ike snorted, but his eyes were twinkling. "A logical thought process. It surprises me occasionally that you grew up only a servant."

"I would wish at times that my mind was not so quick," Pit acknowledged, staring at the ground. "It never helped me in the service of the godd—"

"Palutena," Ike interrupted.

"Yes."

"You miss your brother?"

"He didn't want to stay with my mother, sire. And I love my mother."

Ike pressed his lips together and nodded.

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 **I've got nothing to say, except Pit's adorable. Who's y'all's favorite character so far?**


	10. No Walls Are Safe

**As I said in the previous chapter. Short. But important.**

 **And yes, I'm sorry I'm shouting for reviews. It's not that I'm proud. Just... okay, yes, I'm proud, but that's not why I want reviews. I want to know what you guys like about the story for future stories. Thanks! ;-)**

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The stars shone like tiny diamonds in the black sky and in the midst of them their pearl moon glowed. The heavenly lights reflected in the river as it lazily flowed down the mountains and separated into the many canals that had been traced for it by the hands of men. The palace, still bearing the marks of attack, rose out of the ground, yet determined to protect the palace and the king that dwelt inside of it.

No walls could protect from the stealth of one like her. No walls or guards would dream that she was already inside the palace and had been inside it for many years; her whole life. The crown prince turned over beneath his thick blankets as her thick cloak dragged across the tiled floor. Her husband murmured something in his sleep as his hands deftly patted the empty place beside him where blankets bunched instead of her body. One of her thin, white hands dropped to her belt and grasped the handle of the knife. The king snored gently, the wineglass beside him tipped over on its side and the ants drinking the sticky liquid that had spilled. She softly opened the wooden door that could not protect him from her hatred.

The guards slept the sleep of the drugged and never heard the muffled scrape as the door closed again, behind the black coat of the bringer of death. She slid the knife from its sheath, the blade scraping silently across the leather belt. The slippered feet trod quietly over the floor and she stood beside Robin's bed, taking in his calm face and mouth; slightly agape. The innocent look was not seen by her beady brown eyes. All she saw was the blood of those he had killed including those she had held most dear; her brother. She could only see the bright red liquid, thicker than wine, that had dripped from the throat of her closest friend, Rosalina, who had been so brave to refuse that 'irresistible' offer of marriage and had paid the highest price for her answer. And now he would pay the highest price for his cruelty to both of them.

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 **Sometimes I like no dialog. Sometimes I don't. It worked for this chapter.**


	11. Robin and Cloud's Revenge

**Oh, y'all I feel so bad! I just totally skipped a rather important chapter and somehow didn't post it. This is the real chapter 9, which means chapter 9 is chapter 10 etc. Please, just forgive me, because I feel terrible and I hope to doesn't detract from the story or anything. So, right after Cloud's clan is attacked I believe...and now I'm second guessing myself.**

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Birds circled above the towers that stretched into the clouds. The gleaming white stones shone blindingly in the radiant sun and the black shadow of the windows that dotted the marble in a spiral shape all the way down led to the smooth tops of the surrounding walls. The peaceful sound of rustling leaves blowing in the breeze and the low rushing of river water as the small dams were opened by the farmers to irrigate their land disappeared as a shattering screech broke the stillness.

Marth's head, bent studiously over a letter he was writing for his uncle, shot up and his eyes widened in horror. The scream was all too familiar. His sister had only screamed like that once before; when she'd heard of the death of their father. With an exclamation of alarm Marth leapt up, knocking his wooden chair backwards onto the floor.

He dashed for the door, flung it open, and took off running down the halls. He grabbed the corner of a wall to keep himself from smashing into the stones and give him a push down the next corridor. As the oaken doors that led to the throne room appeared, he skidded to a stop, staggering backwards as if he had been struck.

Lucina was being held by a giant guard, her waist bent over his shoulder. Marth could see by the obvious limpness of her posture and the lack of a struggle that his sister was unconscious, whether by fainting or force, he didn't know. He guessed the latter.

Robin was standing just behind the guard, face red. Red meant angry and anger meant danger. Marth was fearless.

"What did you do my sister, you monster?" he roared, drawing his golden-handled sword from its sheath.

"Keep out of this!" Robin retorted. "And watch yourself or you'll be next! Fitt!" A pale guard with gray eyes stepped forward. "Constrain the prince! He's hotheaded and dangerous with a sword!"

Robin stepped up beside the guard holding Lucina and took one of her ankles in his hand, frowning at Marth as Fitt approached him. And Marth let himself be disarmed and grabbed. Arms constrained behind him he felt panic rise in his throat.

"Where are you taking her?" he gasped, as the guard moved down one hall. Fitt's hands tightened around him as he began to struggle.

Robin laughed bitterly. "If she won't have me, she will have no one. A comfy prison cell in Tyrrian will do her nicely."

"No!" Marth screamed, straining against Fitt's constraining arms until he was red in the face. Lucina's guard disappeared with the girl in tow and Marth broke. Tears streamed from his eyes. "No! Robin, no! Please, don't do that to her! Don't! Don't! I beg you! Do it to me! Do it to me! Not her—"

Something struck him on the side of the head and streaks of lightening flashed in front of his vision as spots appeared and slowly grew until everything was black.

Yet again the day was submerged in peacefulness as the birds chirped and the people chatted in the marketplace. And yet again the peacefulness was a hoax that hid very violent intentions. The Storm clan would not take the attack against them lightly.

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"Forward!" Cloud's voice could be heard through the thick walls and it echoed and reechoed against the stone inside the palace. The fields that burned behind his army sent black smoke up to the sky, an ominous warning to those now trapped inside Robin's palace.

Marth awoke to the screams and shouts of hundreds. He rolled over on his bed and stood on his feet, stumbling. His hand shot out and grabbed the bedpost as he turned to gaze out the window. Thick smoke was billowing through the sky, plumes of blackness blowing away in the wind.

The prince's eyes widened. The shouts and screams and the fire meant one thing; attack. He leapt towards the door and jerked on the handle. It did not move. Locked in. He searched for his sword and found it was gone. Confiscated.

"No! Robin! Let me out!"

Gritting his teeth he slammed his shoulder against the door and winced as pain coursed down his back. He stepped back, hefted up a wooden chair, and slammed it against the handle. It needed no second strike and the door swung open. Hurling the chair onto the ground he dashed out to find Ryu stomping down the hall, a two sided battle axe in one of his large hands.

"Who attacks?" Marth asked.

Ryu glared and wiped sweat from his eyes. "The clan."

"I supposed you had killed them all! Weren't you supposed to?"

Ryu's hand shot out and slammed him back against the wall. "They are stronger than they appear! Find a sword and make yourself useful!"

"Where's Lucina?"

"She's not here anymore!"

At the moment Marth wasn't sure whether to be grateful or not, and he had no time to think of that. Snatching a sword from the hand of a wounded guard, he raced for the throne room to find Robin.

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Cloud swung his sword ferociously, knocking away two men, and raised his blade high above his head. "Now you have tasted death and you see 'tis a pity to have it brought upon your heads!" He faced his men whom he had led into the battle. Behind them lay the scorched walls and burning roofs of the buildings inside them. And also behind sat the palace, as yet untouched by their fiery torches and fierce blades. And it would remain so. Those who hadn't died had fled there and Cloud didn't feel the need to add to the bloodshed that day. If this taught Robin and his army a lesson, he was satisfied.

Slowly he brought his blade down until it touched the earth and the blood that stained the metal dripped onto the dirt. "Take food we need and we go now."

"We've defeated them soundly," Shulk persisted, riding his horse beside Cloud's as they headed back to camp. "Why don't we continue and take the palace?"

"It won't burn like the houses, Shulk," Cloud answered quietly.

"But we could have stormed in and killed that rascal, Robin!"

"I don't mean to kill him. I have proved to him that I will not let him attack me. And his army has been seen as much weaker than our own men. They have no sense of national pride and by the looks of his kingdom, Robin cares little for the decay his country is falling into." He snorted. "I don't feel the need to waste additional blood. If he returns an attack we will fight again and _then_ we will desecrate his palace and slaughter him. If he does not…"

"Happiness and peace," responded Shulk. He gave a small smile. "Let us pray for that, no?"

"Certainly," Cloud responded. But the uneasy feeling that this Robin would respond viciously to an attack so close to his actual person grew in Cloud's mind until it distracted him from everything else.

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 **Robin deserves being attacked. And maybe Ryu too. No one else really did. Anyway, I thought it'd be interesting in this story to show POVs sorta, in the way that it seems like Cloud is being barbaric, but you know his real reasons and sorta empathize with him.**

 **Thank you to all who read and please review!**


	12. Lucina's Hope

**R &R and enjoy!**

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She did not feel thankful as she watched her hope disappear into the dark trees. The quill feather and ink had been gotten at a great cost and she now had no blanket and the guard was eating her meal, as bad as it was. She sat on the cot and let her head drop into her hands, trying not to cry. How had it come to this: asking help from one who might soon destroy her people?

She brushed her blue bangs out of her eyes and leaned back against the stone wall, letting the cold seep through her thin dress and into her shoulders. It seemed to freeze her very core and she stood hastily. It would be foolish to make herself uncomfortable when she now had no means of staying warm. She thought of the fires the servants would make and how Marth would sing a small song about it, always ending with that 'fire maiden' she had been jealous of before she'd realized it was simply a song and no more. If only she were made of fire at this moment.

She should be thankful. Perhaps it would cheer her. Though she had not seen Nana in years, the middle aged woman had still come when she'd heard of Lucina's plight. And it was good that she had sons who were willing to deliver a message to a fierce ruler. Lucina herself knew she would certainly not have delivered a message to Ike for anyone except perhaps Corrin. And yet the man she loved had not even come to see her, let alone attempt to rescue her. Yet she didn't blame him. Why risk his head?

"Thankfulness," she murmured to herself. Nana's husband owned many horses. If not, the young man would not have been able to go and… attempt to deliver the message. Suppose he never even got past the river? Suppose he never even reached the mountains? She felt a tear slide down her cheek and hastily brushed it away. "Thankfulness."

She had actually been _able_ to procure the quill and the ink and it had been enough, though barely enough, to write the letter with all the formalities she knew were necessary for a mighty ruler. Yet even if the letter reached him, why would he open it? Why would he read it? It was more likely a guard would take the letter, read it, laugh, and throw it in the fire, to burn her hope to ashes. He would feed it to the fire maiden whom she desperately wanted right now in the icy prison.

Clutching her arms around herself she forced her mind to go to Robin. As repulsive as the thoughts of his breath on her cheek and his hands moving down her back were, they warmed her with the heat of fury. She would never regret the decision she'd made. She had known death would probably be the result of what she'd said. She still remembered Reflet's shriek as Robin ordered the death of Rosalina, the brave maiden who had refused him before he was even meant to be king. Well, Tyrrian meant death sooner or later; normally sooner, and then she would follow Rosalina's path to the grave. But it would be worth it.

She again thought of her letter. Would Ike respond if he read it? Would he laugh? Would he grunt? Would he rage? Would he even dream of sending someone to her rescue? She was a simple girl. That she was sister to the crown prince surely meant nothing to someone like him. But as long as she did not receive an answer, she would always have hope until she died…or rescue came.

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The woman stopped short just inside the cover of the trees. A camp in the center of the forest could not be a camp of Robin's men. It was certainly not a group of hunters, being far too large. The glowing embers of the nearest campfire reflected in her eyes and she melted further back into the foliage. This must be the encampment of the single clan that had escaped over the mountains just before her destruction.

She whirled about and the glow glinted briefly off her green hair before she disappeared back into the trees. Her legs were sore from her journey and her stomach twisted with hunger, but she knew now that she was almost near her goal. Surely Robin could be persuaded one way or another to aide a poor wandering queen. If he helped restore her kingdom, she could lavish gifts upon him. Surely, if he did not care for riches, he would listen for her own sake. After all, she was a goddess.

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 **Ugh, I don't like Palutena. At all, really. She's as bad as Robin in my mind.**


	13. Coronation of a New King

**Well, here we go some more. I'm rooting for Marth, guys. I hope y'all are too. He deserves and needs it. :-)**

* * *

The trumpet blast sounded of gold and the weight of the crown as it settled on his head felt of cold iron. The dead weight sent shivers from his scalp down his spine and he hesitated as the lord moved back, his cue to stand.

Standing would mean accepting this. As soon as his legs straightened and he turned and faced the small crowd that was gathered below the balcony, he was proclaiming that he would lead them. He would then be the one to make the decisions that could consign hundreds and maybe thousands to death and mutilation by the axes and blades of this Storm clan. He would be forced to make decisions that could send ever so many away from their homes and decide how much of the people's meager incomes would be needed to barely pay their fathers and brothers and sons who were going to have to fight. Marth knew that most of the money would be used to indulge himself, Ryu, and his advisors.

The blue eyebrows knit and Marth rose to his feet and faced the people, his eyes blazing even as they cheered. He would be king. And he would leave Robin's terrible reign in the dust. These were now his people and he would build them up. No more lavish living. The king was one with the people now and would work for their needs, not his own.

As he sat at his coronation feast, Marth brooded silently, letting the cheerfulness and talk drift over his head like lofty clouds that weren't meant to be sought after in his low position of deep thought. He was determined to be a better king than Robin and he felt he had not gotten off to a good start. As a prince he had foolishly overlooked the desperate position of decay the country was falling into; he seemed to have ignored the fact that he would someday be ruler over the decay.

He resolved to blame Ryu of the mess and accuse him of neglecting his duty. Their army shouldn't have lost to the army of this Cloud. Marth knew, of course, that it was natural to lose. Robin had not seen a need for a good military and Ryu had used his position to gain money and power. Which was the reason the new king had no problem with letting the guilt rest on Ryu, though the blame he inflicted would be slightly misplaced.

The army's leader himself entered at that moment, and he took his place beside the king in his golden chair. All thoughts of yelling at him fled Marth's mind. Ryu's face was a dark thundercloud that threatened to rain down lightening and hail on anyone the moment he was addressed. Marth knew the reason, of course.

Surely, it had not been Ryu's idea to have his wife murder her brother, but Reflet was still guilty and still in prison. Marth could not find it in his heart to condemn her, either in his mind, or physically. He sympathized with her reasons, which he knew of, though she'd never spoken of them. He hated Robin as well and was relieved that his uncle was dead and could no longer rule. As far as Marth was concerned, Robin was an insane man who had deserved to die, whether by the knife of an assassin or not.

Because of Ryu's silent anger that persisted throughout the meal, Marth did not drink very much wine at all, kept his sword in its sheath, and trembled slightly as the last guest bowed, kissed Marth's hand, and took his leave. Ryu stood by his chair, brows drawn together in a black glare, and Marth felt very small and alone, despite the three guards that still stood at attention inside the room.

"Ryu," he began, pleased at the hard stiffness in his voice. It was good that, so far, his tone did not mirror his emotions. "I am displeased with the way this kingdom has been run thus far."

He rushed on as Ryu bared his teeth.

"My uncle, Robin, did not rule in a manner worthy of the good people of this country and I aim to change his faults. And I am disappointed in you. Your position has not been used to aide the military or protect us, but for your own benefit. The results of this are obvious in the blackened walls that couldn't protect us from Cloud's fire."

Ryu growled a response that Marth chose to ignore as he tried to soften his harsh accusations.

"But I acknowledge that you are a good leader and the only one the men will follow. You are a fierce warrior and brave general and now, more than ever, I need you, in order to rid this place of Cloud's people."

"I won't lead the men or help you until my wife is out of prison!" Ryu roared abruptly.

Marth flinched and took a step back, his hand flying to the handle of his sword. He waited and Ryu took the foothold that had been handed to him.

"If she's not out of prison by tomorrow, I'll never help you! I want her back and I want her treated well! Don't think for an instant I can't totally destroy your kingdom. And if anything happens to her, by thunder I will!"

"She murdered––"

"Hang Robin!" Ryu bawled. "Hang him a thousand times and then burn him! I want Reflet!"

Marth gritted his teeth. "You've just made it very hard for me, Ryu. How do you think it will reflect on my leadership if I bow to your will? You may as well be king. You just threatened me. I was actually planning on releasing Reflet, but now I'm having second thoughts." It was a complete lie, but Marth needed it because he needed Ryu. It made him angry that he was so dependent on this man and his face felt hot as he flushed.

"In fact I may as well throw you in jail for threatening me!" he continued. "I am the king! Which is a rotten piece of luck, because I have a vagabond clan running around setting fire to our cities because we attacked them, even when they started out peaceably, and I have news that Ike is crossing over our hills right at this moment, most certainly with the intent to destroy, based on the accounts I receive of the massive army he is bringing with him!"

Marth ran his fingers through his hair and glared at the muscled man who towered above him. "Don't think for a moment I am afraid of you or anything you think you are able to do! I can counter everything you throw at me and I will not hesitate to remove you from power, throw you in jail, and execute you if you threaten me with treason."

Marth was relieved when Ryu didn't respond with, "I just did threaten you."

The black-haired man stood, tall and silent, like a statue of stone. His nostrils quivered, but he didn't move. And Marth met the beady eyes with his own furious gaze, waiting for him to answer and wondering what desperate words he would have to respond with.

"Just give me my wife back, and I'll gather the army and beat back Cloud."

His voice was filled with held back anger, but there was a hint of desperation in his voice that Marth heard.

"I can't let her run free, Ryu," he answered. "But I won't put her in Tyrrian. I give you permission to find suitable lodgings for her, make sure she's under guard, and you are not allowed in the room with her alone." His face flamed as something came to him. "Lucina! She's still in Tyrrian! I have to get her!"

* * *

 **Ah, well at least he finally remembered his sister. Come to think of it, maybe it's slightly unrealistic that it took him that long to remember, but it's not like he saw Lucina every day or something when she was with him at the castle...yes, I just made that up now to explain away a problem.**


	14. Midnight Rescue

**I'm sorry I took so long to post. I've been very busy. Just believe me. Anyway, here y'all go. I promise I'll have another chapter up really, really soon.**

* * *

A shadowed hand drew back, pulling the already taught string further backwards. The fingers released the string, which gave a muffled twang as the arrow whistled through the air. A split second later the sound of a strangled cry proved that the guard was dead.

"Good shot," said a voice, and a cloaked figure dashed forward, his black cape billowing out as he rushed to the wall. Ten others followed his example, running from the shelter of the trees to press themselves against the tall, dark, stone barricade.

A few moments later the gate was rattled ferociously. As the clanging died away silence fell. The sound of metal against wood sounded again as hands pushed and pulled on the criss-crossed metal bands.

"What is it? Your round of watch isn't over yet!" hissed an angry voice from inside the walls.

"I think I see men approaching!" exclaimed the one outside the gate. "Open!"

There was a grating sound as the iron key scraped against the bolt. The high pitched scream of metal scraping metal pierced the night and the gate swung back on its rusty hinges, creaking as if in protest.

An instant later a second arrow found its mark and caused the muffled thud of something falling on the stone courtyard.

"Help! We're being attacked!" called the cloaked figure, cupping his hands to his mouth.

With cries of alarm guards raced down from their separate stations and a few stumbled out of the sleeping quarters. Five of the men knelt beside the hooded man in the center and aimed their bows.

"Hurry! More men!" the leader of the invaders shouted, voice full of anxiousness.

Two more guards appeared and two more arrows dispatched them.

The caped one began giving orders to his men. "Two of you, gather the arrows and stand watch. You, guard as well."

"Invaders!" screamed a desperate voice from the ground. "Set it on fire!"

The cloaked man whirled to face the sound of the voice and brought his sword down on the one who had given the death sentence for all the prisoners in Tyrrian. The blade pierced through flesh and bone and a rasping scream echoed through the prison's courtyard.

The muffled roar of an explosion shook the earth beneath their feet and it was mere moments before flames were licking up the sides of the wall out of the door ahead of them.

"The guards are running, sir!" shouted an archer, slinging his bow over his back.

"Let them!" he retorted, the orange glow glinting in his blue eyes. "You know what to do! Find the girl." He took off, dashing up the stairs, sword out and ready. "Lucina! Lucina, where are you? Shout!"

He continued his orders as he pushed his way through a wooden door and burst into a dark hallway, illuminated by two torches. "Lucina!"

He shot forward and abruptly heard her voice. "Here? I'm here! Oh, fire! I'm here!"

With a grunt he dashed forward and stopped short in front of the door that kept her from fleeing. Smoke was wafting from the barred window in the center of the wooden door and two white hands clutched the iron bars.

The man look at the lock. "Get away from the door, Lucina!"

The hands disappeared and he brought back his sword and swung it forward. The blade was a flash of silver as it slashed through the air, but the clang as it struck the bolts was very real. He jerked open the door and saw her.

She was a young girl, small and frail. Her pinched face was white and her hair was stringy and oily as it hung about her. Her dress proved she was a princess who had fallen from favor and the look in her large eyes filled him with compassion.

He stepped forward and took both small, cold hands in his, pulling her towards his warm body and away from the heat of the flames that were now spreading up one wall through a slit in the ground. With a twist of his arm he had her in the position of an infant in the arms of its mother and he left the room, his hood flying off as he ran back down the hall, revealing a mop of brilliant red hair.

As his boots touched the stones that spread over the courtyard, a man raced up to him. "You found her!"

"Yes. Any other prisoners?"

"A few old men. It seems King Robin preferred execution over his most infamous prison. You're lucky," he added, turning to the young woman clutched in the arms of his leader.

"Hush, Pac," he growled. "You're not helping. You released them?"

"Certainly, Roy. And they all ran off. Or should I say tottered off."

"Red hair should warn you of my short temper," Roy hissed. "Gather the others. To the horses."

As the hooves struck the ground in a monotonous rhythm Lucina leaned against the broad back of the one who had come to rescue her and squeezed her eyes shut. Two salty tears dripped off the tips of her long lashes.

* * *

 **Aww. Lucina was rescued. She deserved it, poor girl. Review.**


	15. A Message Through the Rain

**Well, it's not going to take long for the soldiers Marth sent out in search of his sister to return empty handed...**

* * *

The rays of sunlight spilled through the window, illuminating the dust that filled the room and lighting up the royal blue cloth as it spilled over the shoulders of the weary king. The gentle twittering of birds didn't seem to relax him and the only other noise was the incessant scratching of his quill against the rough paper. A pause as he dipped it in the golden inkwell and then he was writing again, his hand moving fast, yet leaving a fine line of dark black words, the strokes and curls all connected beautifully.

Again the scratching paused and Marth leaned back in the wooden chair, turning his wrist carefully, dipping the feather one final time, and signing a signature with a weak flourish. He hurled the quill on the ground and tipped his chair back, turning it slightly, and slamming one of the legs down on the feather, snapping the shaft.

The king's fingers carefully folded the letter, took the candle that had been burning, and tilted it. Like drops of blood, the melted wax dripped onto the paper. He pressed his uncle's seal against the hardening liquid and pulled it away, the elaborate design of lions and bears slowly blurring as his eyes crossed.

Marth blinked, shook his head, and slammed his fist down on the table. "Luigi!"

The door opened and a young man poked his head inside. "Yes, sire. What may I––"

"Don't speak. Take this letter and deliver it personally to Cloud, the leader of the Storm clan. Am I understood? All speed! Take a horse. Go."

"Yes, sir. Will this trip bring me to my grave?"

An important question. Marth drew a hand across his mouth. "I hope not."

Luigi bowed, took the letter, and exited the room.

Marth's head dropped onto his desk and he let the tears slide down his cheeks. It couldn't be. It shouldn't be. How could they attack him twice? Why take her from the prison? Why even go to Tyrrian? Surely an uneducated clan leader wouldn't even know that political prisoners were kept there. And even if he did, why would he want to attack it, forcing the guards to burn it to the ground, perhaps along with his precious sister?

Oh, if he had remembered her earlier and sent for her as soon as Robin was dead. He had waited for his coronation. He had forgotten about her. And now he would suffer for the rest of his life.

He sat up, wiping his eyes. It still ran through his head whether it would have been better to sign his own name rather than Robin's; seal the letter with his own seal. But this Cloud would never listen to a young king who wasn't fit to rule. And as soon as Robin's assassination came to his ears, he would attack them in a weakened state. With the preparations already underway to fight a potential threat, Marth knew they had a head start, but he still needed more time. And he had a feeling, based on further reports coming from the mountains that separated his country from Ike, the mighty clan leader was preparing to attack him. And this was a much greater worry than Cloud.

* * *

The group looked sorry as it trudged through the rain, splashing muddy water into the raindrops that hurtled from the gray clouds above. They were clad in plain clothes and seemed to be in a worse condition than the destitute inhabitants that lived in the flooded farms on either side of the waterlogged path.

The leader held his head a little higher than the rest, who kept their cloaks pulled over most of their faces to protect them from the downpour as much as possible. His blonde hair spilled from beneath the green hood that was pulled back on his head and one hand firmly grasped the knobby walking stick that prodded the soggy ground ahead of each step.

Just behind him, by his left shoulder, walked another person, straight backed and clad in a large, oversized cloak that seemed to drown his figure. This one spoke through the roar of the thundering rain.

"Will we reach the palace soon?" The voice was low and breathy.

The leader turned and his blue eyes blinked water from his eyelashes. "Not at all. As soon as the rain stops we'll rest in the forest. Why? Are you tired?" His smile was slightly patronizing and the other didn't seem to appreciate it.

"Not at all," growled the first, as fiercely as he could manage with his soft tone. "I was merely wondering for the sake of our other soaked companions."

"You always were so considerate, Sheik."

"Stop acting so patronizing, Link," he muttered, folding his arms.

"Forgive me. I _gave_ you a choice whether you wished to come or not."

"And I chose to come and I don't regret it."

"Good. Naturally I will be more considerate to you because of your relationship to me, but…"

"As your second-in-command I go where you go," Sheik responded icily. "I do what you do and I don't complain. It was a simple question and nothing more. I'm not even tired."

Link brushed his damp hair from where it was plastered to his forehead. "I'm sorry. You needn't be so uptight. I know it was only a question."

"Hmph."

Link chuckled and both fell silent as gusts of wind hurled the drenching rain into their faces.

* * *

 **I love describing rain for some reason. Review.**


	16. Deciphering A Message

**I just realized I should probably have attached that part with Link and Sheik to this part, considering it takes place at about the same time (notice the rain continuity). Well, whatever.**

* * *

The crack and rumble of thunder sounding overhead bothered the blonde as he rolled over on the ground. With a grunt he sat up, blue eyes flashing as they searched the tent for the army that was coming to kill his people. Nothing.

"Cloud! A messenger. From Robin."

He rubbed sleep from his eyes and felt his face turn a fiery red as a man entered the tent just behind Shulk. One hand self-consciously grabbed his bare shoulder and he glanced around the tent for his shirt.

"Greetings, sire," said the young man. His eyes were wide and anxious and he appeared even more uncomfortable than the Storm's leader.

"What message?"

"A letter. From the king. I don't know what it says. I must be going." He handed the letter to Cloud and pulled his hand back hastily, as if afraid Cloud's touch would turn him to stone. There was a moment of the rain's roar as he lifted the tent's flap and exited. The cloth dropped again and Shulk scraped the damp hair from his forehead.

"A letter."

Cloud glared at him. "You suggest I open it now?"

The young man looked embarrassed. "Actually, sir, yes, I do."

Cloud hesitated as he looked at the paper and finally broke the seal of red wax, tearing some of the paper as he did so. The words were easy to read and when he had taken in the signature of the king, he sat back, leaning against one of the tent posts.

"What does it say?" Shulk persisted.

"Stop being so impatient or leave my sight!" Cloud snapped.

Shulk turned pink and bit his lip. "Forgive me."

Cloud said nothing as he shut his eyes. "I don't know what he's talking about," he murmured. "He says we have his niece. And he wants to meet with me."

"That's a good idea. You may be able to pound some sense…" Shulk trailed off as Cloud's eyes shot blue fire at him.

A figure came into the tent. "I saw a stranger enter here," came the low voice of Samus.

Cloud's face fired up again, feeling keenly aware of his lack of proper clothing. He tried to keep his teeth from chattering as he glared into the girl's ultramarine eyes. "You should not come in here uninvited! By thunder, I'm supposed to be sleeping!"

"Would you suggest he visit King Robin?" Shulk didn't look at Cloud as he addressed the woman.

She didn't look away from her leader's face as she answered, "No. Robin will kill him."

Cloud folded his arms over his chest. "That too. But there's no reason to visit him. Based on what I've been hearing, Ike is just beyond the hills. And based on movements he seems to making, I suspect he plans to come after the single clan that escaped his grasp and probably take over Robin's kingdom while he sweeps through. The king has more to worry about than getting a meeting with me. Besides, by the letter––"

"A letter from Robin?" asked Samus.

Cloud drew his brows together and she fell silent. "The letter is too polite and well worded. I find it impossible to believe the king would write something like that. Not according to the reports I've heard about him. I suspect he had someone else write it for him and it's most certainly a trap."

"But this could…" Shulk sighed and ruffled his own hair. "You said you didn't want blood," he continued, looking up and meeting Cloud's icy gaze with his own cold stare.

Cloud nodded. "I don't. Neither the clan's nor my own. I'd give my blood for everyone's safety, but this isn't the way to do it."

Shulk said nothing and Samus slipped out of the tent as quickly as she had come.

* * *

 **I think Shulk's a sweetheart. I think I'm making Samus a little too random, but... Yeah.**


	17. Marth's Predicament(s)

**And back to the palace with Marth. I feel so bad for the little dude.**

* * *

A crystal of water dropped from the tip of the leaf onto the muddy ground and instantly soaked into the dirt. The sunlight twinkled off the hundreds of other water droplets that sparkled on the leaves. He wished they were little sparks of hope that actually meant something. But they were meaningless, only symbolizing the recently ceased pelting of rain on the roof. In a fit of anger he knocked the clay pot that held the fragile plant off the windowsill and listened to the satisfying crash as it broke on the stones below.

"Sire?"

He turned from the window and brushed his blue bangs from his eyes. "What is it? A reply from Cloud?"

"Yes, sire. And Ryu."

The burly man snatched the letter from the servant and closed the door, standing in front of it with his arms folded. "Sire," he growled.

"What?"

"Movements that symbolize Ike plans to attack. Perhaps tomorrow. Soon."

"Is the army ready for it?"

"I don't know. I've never faced Ike. I don't believe so."

Marth kept his voice steady. "And Cloud."

Ryu flared his nostrils and handed him the letter. "Written on the back of your own. They don't seem to have their own parchment."

Marth ignored the scorn in his tone and unfolded the paper, reading it aloud. "I have no captives of yours and I am not as foolish as you. I would gain nothing by attacking a prison full of people you hate most. And I refuse to meet with someone who attacked a clan as small as ours by surprise. The revenge I took on your city was what you were worthy of. From what I see, Ike plans to attack…"

Marth stared hard at the ground. Lucina was dead, as he had suspected. And it wasn't Cloud. He forced his mind to more urgent things and looked up at Ryu. "He is afraid of Ike. He is the leader of a clan that escaped Ike's unification process." He pounded his fist into his hand, crumpling the paper between his fingers. "We can use him! His army will fight _with_ ours if we do not attack each other. We have a common enemy now. And I see my mistake in pretending I am Robin. It is obvious that he hates my uncle as much as––"

Ryu growled deep in his throat and Marth paused. "Kiss your wife and take your leave. Gather the army and go to meet Ike. But do not forget to pass by Cloud and inform him that we are fighting a common enemy and I am willing to lay aside enmity, certainly until Ike is no longer alive."

"Another thing, sire," Ryu answered, ignoring Marth's statement. "A woman has come to you. Palutena."

Marth's eyes widened. "The queen of…"

"I am a goddess, your highness!" said the high pitched voice of the green-haired woman as she entered the room.

Marth's surprise removed any thoughts of the sanctity of his royal room from his mind and he involuntarily stepped back as Ryu stepped aside to allow her a straight path towards him.

Her hips swung as she sauntered up and the king was confused at her obviously cocky behavior. From what he had heard, the kingdom she had once ruled was in shambles _and_ in the hands of a barbaric clan leader. The dress she wore may have once been white, but it was a filthy, torn rag now that barely hung on her body. His eyes inadvertently sought the floor.

"Too afraid to look on my glory?" she crowed. "You are the new king, I am told. Well, I have come ask your help. I would command it, but…" She cackled. "That would be brash, no?"

Marth found his lower lip was trembling with anger and he clenched his fists by his sides, the crinkle of the letter reminding him that he had more urgent business than this silly buffoon who called herself a goddess.

"I shall provide a room for you, since we both seem to have a common enemy in Ike," he muttered, glancing at Ryu.

The man's stoic face looked annoyed, but pleased at Marth's discomfort and he raised a thick eyebrow at his king. The blue-haired man stalked out of the room saying, "Ryu, see to it."

As he headed down the hall he heard her voice turn honey sweet as she crooned, "Ryu. You seem very strong. Perhaps you would like to be my angel. I love angels."

Ryu growled a curse and soon was stomping behind Marth, on down the white, stone corridor.

* * *

 **Ugh, Palutena. Die already.**


	18. Generals' Argument

**Another chapter going up. It's hard to continue writing stories when my mind goes so fast that I have like, two other full-story fics in my head right now. But don't worry, I'm not going to quit this one or something. Seriously, we're just getting started.**

* * *

The aerial view of the battle was most interesting and the least violent. A sea of black men, like ants, streamed down the slight hill towards the defenders, who covered their own small mount. The defenders appeared to be divided into two different groups, something they would regret later on. As the two collided the shouts and screams reached the heavens.

It was as if two liquids slid towards each other and melded together. The two-or perhaps three-had become one mass of fighting flesh and blood. Men screamed and groaned and roared their fury as they swung their various weapons at the bodies of others. Their steeds whinnied and shrieked as they plunged and reared. And ravens flew overhead; dark omens of the bloodshed that would result in one loss and one win.

Yet, as dusk drew near, it seemed to be a draw. One army detached itself from the fight; a retreating puddle, but the attacking army did not pursue them and the retreat only took them so far before they realized they were not being chased and could tend their wounds and count their losses.

Cloud was furious.

"You should have listened to me, you idiot!" he bawled at the black-haired general who had shortly before attacked his clan and killed his men. "I knew we should have gone in together!"

"My men would have killed yours and ignored the real threat if we'd done that!" Ryu retorted, standing to face the blonde leader. "I know exactly what they think of you!"

"And you believe our opinion of your country and people is any better?" Cloud snapped. "But at least we have self control!"

"Well, besides that I'd deny that statement," growled Ryu, "even if you _did_ have control over your men and their hot feelings, I can't do that with my men."

"Well than why are you leading this army?" Cloud hissed.

"I don't know why you insult me and think that will gain you anymore favor!" blared Ryu, shoving Cloud back with a palm to his shoulder. It was the shoulder wounded by a pike and Cloud sucked in breath through his teeth as he staggered back briefly.

"Ike wouldn't have come here if it weren't for you," Ryu continued. "He's only here to grab that last clan that evaded him by trespassing into _our_ land! It shouldn't be hard to appease him with a little of Storm's blood."

Cloud growled a curse under his breath as he hefted his giant blade in one hand. "You watch yourself and your rough behavior, Ryu. You don't know Ike's true intentions. And whatever the case, Ike isn't leaving now, even if he _did_ get my head on a golden plate and my clan to join with his. He wants your land and he wants your king dead! He's a conqueror, not a peacemaker who can be bribed into leaving."

Ryu's anger seemed to have run down and his face slowly returned to its normal color as he turned away from Cloud and sat down at his table. "Even now I can here yelling. It's not _my_ men fighting amongst each other, but _ours_."

Cloud glared at him. "Surely. But your men probably started it."

"We're more civilized than your clansmen," Ryu growled. "And you know it. If you hadn't—"

"The solution to this problem is not to find out who's fault it is," Cloud interrupted angrily, sitting down on the ground and leaning his head back against one of the tent's supporting posts. " _That_ will only make things worse."

"It might help us find the root cause and get rid of it," Ryu snapped.

"Or it might stir up contention between our men!" Cloud shouted.

"Quiet. We're friends on the outside," Ryu cautioned sarcastically.

Cloud snorted. "Well, as of now, we're on the inside." He shook his head and the pale blue eyes glanced behind him at the sunlight filtering through the gap in the tent's cloth. "What are the total losses?"

"One hundred. All unrecoverable unless Ike leaves or we regain ground. Wounded is near two hundred. More of those are yours."

Cloud glared at him and Ryu raised a thick eyebrow back.

"I told you you should wear more armor. You are wounded in your shoulder and I am not."

"Well you will be if you don't shut your cursed mouth."

Ryu gave a short guffaw. "You talk mightily for someone without much power. You didn't even get on the good side of Marth by returning his sister."

"I didn't take her!" Cloud exclaimed, but saw that Ryu was smirking and shaking his head.

"Joking, surely. I believe she perished in the flames, but the now fanciful king who is ruling us won't 'give up hope'. Stupid."

Cloud rolled his eyes. "Fanciful and stupid is better than rash and stupid as far as I'm concerned. I'm glad Robin's dead and whoever the assassin was is my new friend."

"Well, good for you. She's a fine woman." Ryu's voice had become depressed and Cloud's head jerked up as he observed the general's hulking form suspiciously.

"What do you mean? A woman killed him? You know her? Surely not his wife."

"His sister."

Cloud's eyebrows shot up and he pursed his lips. "Goodness."

"My wife."

"Your wife killed him, too? Your wife is…his…sister," Cloud breathed. "Was she executed?"

"No. Marth never liked his uncle either. Robin wished to marry Lucina, Marth's sister, but she refused and he put her in Tyrrian. And then it was set on fire and Reflet, my wife, killed Robin, and Marth became ruler, and Ike, curse him, is here now."

Cloud was trying to digest the information and it hurt his already aching head. He reached down and grabbed up his skin of water, taking a drink. "Lucina… Robin's niece? Then how…?" He wrinkled his brow as Ryu answered.

"He was more corrupt than you know."

"How did you survive?"

"Not saying I wasn't corrupt either." He snorted drily. "Still am. Everyone is. Blast us all. I'm going to sleep."

Cloud didn't mind. It was difficult to understand palace life and his head throbbed and pulsed with the beating of his heart. Slowly his eyes closed as his chin dropped forward onto his chest.

* * *

 **Honestly I like Ryu better now. And I still think Cloud's a cutie... And cool. ;-) Thoughts on this chapter are appreciated. Thanks, y'all!**


	19. Pacing

**Just a conversation, but still. More of the characterization. ;-)**

* * *

The red cloth shivered and a moment later the small head of a young woman appeared from the folds as she peered around the corner of the tent. Her blue, wispy hair blew in the slight breeze.

"Roy?" she asked hesitantly.

The muffled thud of boots on the ground ceased and a moment later he stopped in front of her. "What do you need?" His voice sounded frustrated and she tried not to cringe.

"You have been pacing outside my tent for the past hour." She looked at him with blank innocence and he gave a reluctant smile, dragging a gloved hand through his ratty hair.

"Forgive me, Lucina. I do that at times."

"When you're upset?"

He cocked his head. "Yes."

"And when you're angry?"

One red eyebrow raised. "Yes."

"Frustrated?"

"Yes."

"Sad?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "When I am sad, I mope. 'Tis a sorry thing to see. Is my pacing bothering you? I'll do it elsewhere."

She giggled. "It bothers me because you seem upset. Which…you admitted you were." She smiled. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"You surprise me with your good nature. Don't you know I killed many people today."

She lowered her eyes and nodded. "Yes. Good people. My people. But it's not your fault. Ike's leading."

Roy knit his eyebrows. "It's my fault for doing so. I don't blame Ike. And I don't care either. Robin's a wicked ruler who deserves to be killed and his country taken for better use. If they fight us, we fight back."

Lucina sighed. "Yes. I suppose so. You admire Ike?"

"As a leader. Wise. I wouldn't choose everything he chooses and you know my red hair gets the better of me at times, but…" He gave a quick smile. "I've grown better at self control."

"Do you ever take captives?" she asked abruptly.

Roy blinked. "Not as captives generally. If they are peaceful we leave them in their country. But we have only attacked one country so far, which was Palutena's. You know, she escaped. Rumored that she came here."

"I spoke with Pit a while before."

"Ah, yes. Him. Not a captive. He chose to stay. Link's wife adopted him."

Lucina nodded. "He told me. He also told me of Palutena. A goddess?"

"Insane."

"Yet he never says that this is the case. He refers to her as 'the goddess' or 'Palutena', when in the presence of others besides myself."

"I would say it was severe trauma from being under her," remarked Roy darkly. "She beat him and his younger brother mercilessly for slight offenses. It's rumored she used them as angels for her own pleasures. Even…" He pursed his lips. "He's led a tragic life so far."

"He was pleased to go off with a detachment to join his 'mother' again."

Roy grinned. "I hope it will do him good. Zelda is an amazing woman."

Lucina nodded. "I want to meet her when I can."

Roy smiled. "You will have plenty of time. Tell me, Lucina, do you feel safe here?"

"I do. You are all very kind. Truly," she added, "your behavior surprised me. I always thought of clansmen as fierce and cruel."

Roy's eyes softened. "Well, I'm glad we could prove ourselves to you."

She lowered her eyes and smiled. "Yes. Thank you for rescuing me. I know I've said it before, but I can never forget it."

"Don't try," he responded gallantly. "Rescuing you was the greatest act of service I feel I've ever done to anyone. Especially since you are so deserving." He grinned.

Her face flushed. "Why were you upset?"

He cocked his head. "Upset? Oh!" His chuckle was warm. "You've practically made me forget. I was simply trying to understand why Ike waits and doesn't attack."

"You wish him to attack?"

Roy colored and rubbed the back of his neck. "As a general, that would be the wisest thing to do. To push his advantage. And to wait is…wise as well perhaps…"

"You certainly don't seem to agree with that if it has made you upset for an hour." It was the deep voice of Roy's indigo-haired leader and the two whirled to see Ike striding over.

He folded his arms. "I'm waiting for Link."

"But why?"

"Because he may need a safe haven to return to and I'm confused by certain…palace happenings. Rumors circulate and I need to make sure my information is correct and in order before I make further moves."

"You think pressing your advantage on the weary enemy would hurt us crucially?"

Ike's eyes narrowed and Roy swallowed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ike. I don't know everything. This may be perfectly logical." He gave a weak smile and rapped on his forehead with his knuckles. "Apparently sound reasoning can't get past my thick skull."

Ike smirked and Lucina giggled nervously.

"Whether I'm wrong or right, I'm the leader."

Roy nodded. "Yes. You are."

Ike glanced at Lucina briefly and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't trust anyone but him to bring you here."

She blushed and glanced at Roy, who was flushing as well.

And Ike left them, his smile invisible from behind.

* * *

 **Well, well. Who knew Ike could be a matchmaker. What do y'all think? Lucina x Roy?**


	20. Evening Romance

**Sorry it's been a while. I've been busy. Anyway, hopefully you like and if you do, please review. Thanks, guys.**

* * *

Only silhouettes were visible now as the vivd sun sank behind the mountains that it had crowned with a stunning, golden outline. A masked person approached the blonde man who stood on the mountain, hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

"You look handsome in green."

His smile was barely visible in the dim light as he turned to look at his addresser. "Thank you, Sheik. But that is certainly strange talk for a second in command. Why should you care how I look?"

"No one is here," Sheik responded with clear annoyance. "You shouldn't try to aggravate me. It won't bode well for anyone. But I wanted to ask if you think this is a good idea."

Link shrugged. "I believe there is not much danger. And only a few are going. You think Pit can?"

"I think so," Sheik responded, nodding stiffly.

Link chuckled and turned to face the masked one. "I'm sorry. I offended you. Forgive me. You're right… no one's here." He reached up and his fingers brushed Sheik's face as he pulled the mask down. As the cloth left the chin the elegant features of his wife were only just detectable and he leaned forward.

She did as well and he wrapped his arms around her waist as their lips pressed against each other.

The small shadow that might seem like a stone to a passerby didn't move, but the blue eyes, barely lit by the dim sunset, took it all in. Romance had never interested him in that sense. He didn't know what love truly was. But this… this was beautiful.

"I love you," Link murmured.

"I know," she whispered, her slender fingers reaching up to brush his scraggly locks behind his ear. "I love you, too."

"We should head out," he said, stepping away from her. He gently took the white cloth and pulled it over her nose again. "You think Pit will be okay… Sheik?"

"You said we were alone."

"Zelda?"

She turned away from him and nodded shortly. "He'll be fine. He's a sturdy boy."

"I'm glad he's your son."

"We're married, Link," she reminded him a tad sarcastically. "He's _our_ son."

"Ah, yes. But somehow, mostly yours. I don't think he likes me."

"I just like her better, is all."

Both whirled at the sound and saw the dim figure of the boy as he stood there.

Link jerked his head and Pit hesitated before walking over and standing stiffly in front of him. "Yes, sir?"

"Spying isn't right."

"I'm sorry."

Link raised an eyebrow and glanced at his wife; his second-in-command.

"Do you enjoy spying on couples as they romance each other?" she asked shrewdly, folding her arms.

"I—" Pit looked almost ashamed as he hung his head. "I'd never seen it before, mother."

Her stern look melted into a smile and she hugged him. "Well, perhaps it isn't wrong as we are your parents. But don't spy. Are you ready? We head out now, yes, Link?"

"Yes," he answered, nodding. With a grunt he walked off down the hill.

"He doesn't like me?" asked Pit curiously, staring innocently up at Zelda.

She gazed after her husband's disappearing figure and pursed her lips. "He does. But he is not sure how to be a father and trying to suddenly learn how when my son is seventeen…" She smirked and a bell-like giggle escaped her lips. "It is something that, for him, is much harder than leading hundreds of men into battle and fighting for his life hours at a time."

Pit smiled at her laughter, but his forehead wrinkled as well. "Well, maybe I'll try to be a better son. I'll do just as he tells me."

"That is certainly a good start," she approved, smiling down at him. Then both followed their leader.

* * *

 **Well, well. I'd like to preface the next chapter, even though I don't know when I'll get it up, by saying...Poor Marth. But isn't Pit the sweetest thing? I certainly think so.**


	21. Invading the Palace

**Well, hello and I'm sorry for the delay. It's been a while. Hope y'all enjoy...**

* * *

Marth was blissfully unaware of what was occurring outside his palace. He didn't hear the quiet grunts as men pulled themselves up the rope that was secured just inside his room. He was feeling annoyed at how much wine he had drunk. His mind was just slightly fuzzy and it bothered him even as he felt guilty heading down the halls. As the moon rose and shown through the marble pillars, bathing him in white light, he let out a deep sigh and froze as his ears picked up the sound of a boot scraping stone. It came from inside his room.

Quickening his pace he peered in through the doorway and stiffened again as his eyes took in the four silhouettes in his room and a fifth climbing through one of his arched windows at that moment.

"Guards!" Marth called. All eyes were instantly on him and his heart began to pound as he turned and fled down the hall, stumbling over his own feet, the sounds behind him closing in all around as if thunder had come down from the heavens. His own footsteps added to the confusion in his head and the thudding in his ears.

"Too many toasts, you fool," he growled to himself as he rounded the hall and pushed into a parlor. The door slammed back against the wall and he dove for the far side of the room, snatching at the sword that rested on two golden pegs in the wall. It clattered to the floor and he shook his head violently, trying to clear the fogginess as he grabbed at the handle. His fingers scraped the floor and he grabbed at it again, his fingers clenching the velvet comfortably between them in a firm grip as he straightened and whirled about to face the thousands of adversaries that surrounded him.

And even as he turned he realized the room was basically empty. Dimly he could hear the shouts of others as they called to each other and the screams as either his guards or the silhouettes died. Certainly there was a man standing in the doorway and he staggered back against the wall before readying his sword.

"Ah. By the crown you must be a prince." His voice was sinister and Marth wished the room had more light than the faint moonbeams that streamed through the open windows.

"I certainly think I outrank _you_ , scoundrel," the king retorted. "What do you think you could get away with, entering m…this palace as you did?"

"Oh ho," remarked the man, entering the room and shutting the door quietly. Marth saw a sword was in his hand too. And by the way he carried it, he either didn't know how to use a sword or he was an expert who wasn't worried by the pitiful, drunk figure in front of him.

Marth's hand shook as the man replied, "Surely you should introduce yourself first, before you go about addressing me as…a scoundrel."

"I don't believe you deserve the honor," Marth returned desperately, his voice shaking briefly. His perspiring hands were dampening his sword's handle.

"Well then I shall go first. I am Link."

"I'm not sure it's a pleasurable meeting," Marth growled, gritting his teeth and taking a step forward. "Do you fight as well as you speak?"

"I think you'll have to decide that," Link responded, stepping towards him as well. His eyes glinted as the moonlight bathed him in it's white sheen. His hair was a ragged blonde mess and his green clothing seemed to make him a forester.

"You should return to the woods where you belong," Marth said stiffly. "Before you get hurt." He was confident in his skills, but he was equally confident in Link's skills and there was no telling if his swordplay would trump Marth's.

* * *

Ryu slowed his horse outside the palace. Marth had to listen to him and if he didn't, Ryu would make him. The army couldn't function with allies they hated in their very souls. And he couldn't function either, with a whining, baby-blue eyed man who was an impressive fighter and wasn't afraid of any threats.

* * *

The black pupils grew and shrank as the four slipped silently down the torchlit hall. The palace reminded him of where he had come from and he kept close to his mother, her darkly-clad figure moving elegantly along the wall.

"The throne room," he heard her whisper.

"We enter it?" asked one of the men.

"I shall. You two go down that way and try and find the bedroom," she breathed.

Pit stayed still, looking at her until she glanced down and their eyes met. "Stay with me," she ordered and he inadvertently let out the breath he had been holding. She pushed open the heavy oaken door and Pit slipped in just behind her, easily maneuvering his body through the slight crack she allowed.

It was very different from the goddess' throne room. No golden pillars and massive windows with tapestries and paint covering the ceilings and walls in garish colors. It was rather simple, with a few tables and benches for the throne room sessions when the king performed special judgements, and a large throne. Pit's mind placed an equally large person on the throne and the king suddenly seemed very large indeed. Perhaps a god.

"Pit?"

He was shrinking back against the wall and his eyes flicked over to her. She stood by the throne now, but she was looking at him, her eyes narrowed and her voice slightly worried.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you think he is a god? You think he knows of Palutena? You know all gods are connected."

Zelda's eyes flashed. "Pit, kings and gods are not the same thing. You must drop these foolish notions. Come. Touch this throne. It is simple stone."

"With magic left on it, perhaps," he whispered, disobeying as he shrank further back against the door.

"Pit!" she hissed furiously. Her eyes widened and Pit felt himself fall forward as the door struck him and was thrown open. Rolling over on his back he brought his arms up to protect his face as he looked at the two massive men standing in the doorway.

A spear was raised above him and his eyes remained unblinking as it plummeted down.

"No!"

A foot knocked the pike away and his mother had rounded the guards. One gave a groan and twisted slightly before crashing to the ground close beside Pit, who struggled to stand, even as the other man whirled on his mother and knocked her back with a quick hand. She flipped over backwards into a handspring and crouched, a bloody knife where she had stabbed the first guard clutched in her gloved hand.

The remaining man backed against the wall and rammed his spear at Pit, who rolled out of the way and stood, his heart pounding in his chest as he drew the bow from its place on his back, stepped away from the man even further, and placed an arrow on the string.

Panic was seen in the guard's eyes and he ran at Pit, who pulled back and released his shaft. With a dull thud it struck the man in the chest, but he didn't stop his advance and stabbed his spear down again.

Pit leapt away, striking his knee on the ground as he scrabbled across the floor in desperation. No sound came from his mouth, his eyes wide, as he stood again to face the guard. The man was standing still and stiff before he slammed down to his knees and barreled over onto his side.

Zelda stood behind him, her knife bloody again, her eyes flashing.

Pit never knew how it happened. He only saw it suddenly. As if a vision. It was a dream. She seemed to float out from behind the corner at the far end of the hall, visible through the open doors. The white that cloaked her made her a ghost, and the emerald hair that flowed down her back waved as she walked. He didn't move. He couldn't move.

Closer, she came; closer. Even as dimly he heard someone saying his name. Even as he realized his tormenter held her golden staff in hand. The pupils grew small and the thudding of his heart, the soft pad of her feet, and his own breathing filled his mind and surroundings.

The staff was readied in her hands as she passed through the doorway. His mother was unaware of the one who was going to destroy her. The goddess would take everything from him. She already had. Well, she couldn't take his mother. Never.

"Mother! Behind you!" His shriek shattered the silence.

* * *

 **Does that last part make sense? Well, it will in the next chapter. I hope. Cheers, all. Please review. Thanks!**


	22. The end of a goddess

**Hello again. I couldn't wait too long to post again. Duh. :-)**

 **Well, I hope y'all enjoy. Ah, yes. To my guest reviewer, I want to say that making characters bad guys in my stories doesn't necessarily mean I have a 'bias' against them. I actually like Robin and don't think of him like I portray him. I can change his character to fit my stories and I just decided to put him in this position...because. Okay, I admit that I don't like Palutena very much at all, but same here. I thought of the idea to involve a 'queen' and decided to choose her, since I didn't think it'd make sense to use anyone else. Does that make sense? Thanks for your encouragement. I hope I cleared up anything confusing. ;-)**

* * *

Sweat streamed down his face and he felt his hair plastering to his forehead even as he leapt backwards and forwards in a desperate attempt to live. Certainly the cocky blonde wasn't as confident now, engaged in the sword fight and sweating as well, but he wasn't scared and it was obvious. The fear that invaded Marth's logic was going to be the death of him.

"Why do you even fight an inconsequential prince?" he gasped, as he parried another strike and attempted to follow up with his own thrust.

"And how do I know who is inconsequential or not? Truth be told, if you'd just tell me where the king is, I'd leave you with a simple concussion instead of a corpse," Link returned.

Marth's jaw clenched as he backed up and stumbled over the edge of a rug. His arms waved wildly as he caught his balance and his sword was struck with the blade of his adversary, sending it clattering across the room.

The king leapt back and hesitated as Link paused as well. "Naturally if he's your father I'd understand your hesitation. Though he would be a sorry father." He smirked as he took a step forward.

Marth's heart pounded and he ran forward, his gaze on Link's blade. As the blonde struck with his sword, Marth dove to the ground, sliding beneath the silver blur and somersaulting to his feet. He scooped up his sword and faced Link, who was glaring at his miss.

"Well, then I shall tell you some information, if it is the king you search for. You'll have to die to find him. He was assassinated."

The news seemed to stun Link. His entire face bore shock and Marth knew now was a perfect opportunity to kill him. But he couldn't find the strength. His legs threatened to cave at any moment.

"Wh-who is the reigning king?" Link stammered, obviously waiting to attack.

"His nephew," Marth returned, gasping for breath now. "You still wish to give me a concussion?"

"Not at all," returned Link slowly, obviously not humored. His voice was grave and confused. With a leap backwards he had unlocked the door and was out of sight.

Marth's legs buckled and he collapsed on the ground, staring at the open door through weary eyes. He had to follow, but needed to wait.

* * *

Sheik ducked instinctively and whirled at the same time, the whiz of something shooting over her head proving danger. The woman who stood there could only be one person, her hair as green as Sheik had heard from her husband.

"How dare you avoid my attack, mortal!" she screamed. "And you stole my angel! My precious angel."

Sheik's fists shook with fury and she leapt over another strike from the oaken staff, landing behind Palutena. She stabbed at her with her knife, but the woman's madness hadn't reduced her agility and she avoided the blade, her back arching gracefully as she shrank away from the edge and twirled her stick over her head.

Sheik sidestepped as it crashed down and stabbed again; Palutena again avoiding it, though the knife tore the edge of her white skirt.

"How dare you tear the clothing of the gods?" she screamed.

Before Sheik could get her bearings she'd been knocked down by a blow to her ankles and the edge of the staff was on her chest, pressing her painfully against the ground.

"You will die for this!" hissed the goddess, pushing down harder.

Sheik struggled as the sharp pressure increased on her sternum.

"Mother!"

The scream alerted the goddess and she whirled. The stick left Sheik's chest and she was on her feet in an instant, but not fast enough. The crack was loud and the thud of Pit's body was quiet, but pierced Zelda's very soul.

Her hand came back and as Palutena turned to face her she thrust the blade into the woman's neck. Blood spurted onto her as the goddess' eyes widened and then Sheik pulled the knife back and blood was staining the golden edged dress as Palutena fell back onto the ground.

Sheik ran forward and grabbed up her son in her hands, her tears streaming down her face as she kissed his forehead and cheek and pulled him close to her. Blood covered his head and there was no pulse felt on his broken neck. Sobs shook her and she felt rather than heard the thud of heavy feet in the doorway.

She turned to see the form of a giant man, his shaggy black hair and eyebrows making a fiercer image than even his bulging muscles as he clutched an axe in his hand.

"Who else have you killed?" he roared. "Reflet! Where are you?" His voice rose in desperation and he turned.

He stayed still for a long moment and Sheik saw, through his legs, another pair of feet that she recognized. As the black-haired man fell to the ground, face forward, Link sidestepped to avoid him and raced over to his wife.

"Oh, my precious. Oh, Zelda."

She sobbed harder as Link lifted her up and took Pit's body in his arms. He was merely a boy; too young to die. Why hadn't he taken advantage of having a son while he still could? He would ask later what had happened, but he didn't need to look to twice to see that Palutena was lying dead on the stone floor.

They exited the throne room and two of Link's men jogged up to them. "Sir, we couldn't find any king, and were not forced to kill anyone…" The four corpses were obvious and bloody.

"Where is he?" All turned to face the woman standing at the end of the hall. Her white hair flowed around her face as her desperate brown eyes took them all in. The black coat she wore scraped the ground and behind her staggered a young man, sweat sliding down his face, his cleanly cut blue hair damp and dark. Both spotted Ryu at the same time.

"No," whispered Reflet. "Not him. Please, no." She ran forward and none of the enemy stopped her as she threw herself on her husband. "Wake up. Be alive." Her scream of anguish pierced Marth's heart and tears stung his eyes.

"You, the king, should have been able to protect him!" Reflet screamed at him.

A tear slid down his cheek. No, he'd never liked Ryu, but Ryu was his general and he'd known him as an actual person, most certainly after Robin's death. Somehow he hadn't only lost his best general and second-in-command.

His eyes shot to Link. The two men beside him and the blonde himself were all tensed and Marth realized Reflet had revealed his identity to them all. He met Link's gaze, blue eyes bright and jaw tight. Well, if they would kill him for being king, so be it. Lucina was dead. Ryu was dead. And his country would fall to Ike either way.

One of the men started forward, but Link's voice stopped him. "Wait."

Marth gazed at him, hands shaking.

"If Robin is dead, our work is done," finished Link. His eyes left Marth's to stare at the corpse of a boy he held. "We've lost enough already."

Slowly they melted out of sight and Marth sank to his knees and hid his face in his hands.

* * *

 **Hope you...liked. I mean, yes I'm sad Ryu's dead, too. I actually sympathized with him. And poor Reflet. I sympathized with her as well, even if she killed her brother. And poor Marth. I'm so mean to the little dude, huh? Well, I will leave y'all with the statement that posting for this story may take a while. I need to write a lot more. But we're slowly approaching an end, so... Hm, don't worry. I won't say goodbye yet. ^_^**


	23. Riots and Anger

**I just want to let y'all know right now that I have writers block and am very busy, so...I'll try, but I need inspiration for additional chapters...**

* * *

It was sprinkling, making everything miserable. But it didn't add to the depression of one who was already so sunk in defeat he felt he couldn't fall any further. He gritted his teeth as his second-in-command entered the tent.

"Sir. They're shouting again."

"I know," Cloud growled. "I can hear them."

The muffled roaring of hundreds of men was sickening. He knew they were all shouting curses against him. Well, it was too bad. He hadn't asked for this position, but Ryu was dead apparently and there was no one else fit to lead these soldiers. With the signing of the treaty not so many days ago, anyone else leading was illegal anyway. Not that Cloud thought they cared about legality or the fact that their former, now deceased, general had signed the treaty himself.

"You think they'll try to kill you?" Shulk asked, picking at a loose string on his glove.

"Likely," Cloud sneered. "They're so stupid! Don't they know Ike will press his advantage in the state we're in?"

"I'm worried they'll attack our own camp. With hardly any defenders, our families are…practically helpless."

Cloud sighed so deeply that Shulk released the stray string and stared earnestly at him. "I don't wish to add to your troubles, sir, you know that."

"It's not you adding to my troubles," Cloud answered. "And I know I should be more appreciative, but it's hard when everyone hates you." He dug his dirty fingernails into his palm. "Where is that idiot Marth?" he burst out. "He should know that his men won't follow me, a clansman, and we'll all be slaughtered by Ike without sound leaders! He should realized that that blasted head of these riots, Corrin, should be hung!"

"I could kill him, sir," Shulk suggested, squatting on the ground and taking a piece of dried meat from his satchel.

Cloud watched him gnaw on it until the young man glanced up and realized his leader was observing him. Turning red he jerked it from his mouth and swallowed. "Would that be a bad idea?"

"Actually, I rather like it," Cloud responded. He smirked and Shulk tried to keep a smile from spreading across his own face. "But no," he continued, dragging his fingers through his spiky hair and standing. "They'll know I had it done. Blast that Corrin."

"Yes, blast him," repeated Shulk, standing as well. "Do you think our Storm clan is safe?"

Cloud pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tightly before opening them and shaking his head. "No. But I can't spare anymore men. I need to get this sorted out, first."

"Cloud!" came a voice from outside the tent.

At the sound of his name the clan leader instantly realized there was some sort of important message from one of Marth's men. No one from his clan would call him by his name and no soldier of Marth's would speak to him unless there was a matter of urgency.

His deductions were proved true as a red faced young man entered the tent at that moment, dressed in the traditional armor of the soldiers. "Just received word that Ike pulled back even further." He gasped for breath and waited for Cloud's response.

The clansman knitted his eyebrows and glanced at Shulk. "We didn't win. Yet he's the one retreating. That man makes no sense. Now imagine him ruling us." He sighed and turned back to the soldier. "Spread the word."

The soldier hesitated, but turned and left. Cloud glanced at Shulk. "You too."

Shulk nodded curtly and exited the tent.

* * *

"Sire!" Link saluted sharply.

Ike nodded and jerked his head at his tent. His second-in-command ducked inside and Ike followed.

"Well?"

"Sire, it's ridiculous. Robin was assassinated."

Ike knit his eyebrows. "I _thought_ it was strange that a scoundrel like him would create a treaty with that Storm clan." He smacked his fist into his hand. "Well. Who is ruling now?"

"His nephew as far as I was told."

"Who told you?"

"His nephew, apparently. I fought him until he explained that Robin was assassinated and then I left and later on the wife of a man we killed called him the king."

"You didn't kill him?" Ike asked, his eyes flashing.

Link stared hard at his commander. "No, Ike, I didn't. You sent us to the palace to kill Robin. He was dead and I found we had no other reason to be there."

"You fool!" Ike roared. "A leaderless country is exactly what I need! It will let me defeat it much easier!" He took a heavy step towards Link, but the blonde didn't bat an eyelash. His eyes stared coldly into Ike's furious gaze.

The indigo-haired mercenary stopped short in front of him. "You killed the general of this new king's army, didn't you?" he growled.

Link's face clouded with confusion. "I-I don't know…"

Ike turned away from him and began pacing. "Before you returned I heard from rumors that the general had returned to the palace and been killed there during an attack. They blame the Storm clan that they are a part of and blame that snake, Cloud, for initiating it." He snorted. "As if he could engineer a plan that brilliant." He looked over at Link and his eyes narrowed. "Except it has suddenly become less brilliant because the king that you seem to say was in your complete power, was released, unharmed!" He smacked his forehead with his palm. "Your mind must certainly have been boggled."

Link took a deep breath. "Perhaps. We had one loss."

Ike turned. "Who?"

"My son." Link's muttered answer was just distinguishable and his commander was silent for a while.

"Oh," he finally returned heavily. "Give my condolences to Zelda."

Link sighed. "I will, sire. But if you would permit to say something, I'd be most appreciative."

"Will it make me angry?" Ike growled.

"Perhaps, sire," Link responded shortly and with a hint of sarcasm. "It's my point of view."

"Then no," Ike said.

Link seemed surprised by the answer, but nodded, frowned at the broad back of his leader, and exited the tent.

Ike whirled at the sound of fabric against fabric and found Link had gone. He made as if to go after him, but stopped, snorted, and sat down to think.

* * *

 **I really like these guys. That's just a contemplation on my writing and the story. Who's y'all's favorite character?**


	24. Battling

**Finally, right?**

* * *

"All hail the king!" cheered the soldiers, roaring their approval.

Marth hated their approval. It was based on something that didn't deserve any praise; he was king. And what a botheration it was to be the ruler of these soldiers who were rioting under the cursed Corrin because Cloud was simply a foreigner and the ruler of a clan that had attacked the capital city. And Cloud himself was such a bother, too. Curse his whole clan that couldn't just peacefully submit to Ike and keep all this trouble from happening. Then all he would have had to deal with would have been Robin, and Reflet killing him, and Lucina, and…

He tried not to cry as he thought of his sister again, knowing she was probably a pile of ashes buried in the pile of rubble that had been the worst prison in Robin's kingdom. It was Robin's fault. Everything was. Curse him for being born.

Marth spotted Cloud instantly. His clothing and hair set him apart from the soldiers all around. He stood at the entrance to Ryu's tent, standing tall and strong and staring at Marth with blue eyes that lit up brightly in the sun. The king swallowed and dismounted smoothly, brushing his cape behind him and striding as confidently as he didn't feel up to the man most of his men wanted to kill.

"Cloud. Greetings."

"Greetings." Cloud's voice was deep and stiff. He obviously wasn't pleased and he most certainly looked down on Marth for being younger and shorter than him.

Marth turned to his men and raised his voice, using the weeks of training in his speech class to send his message throughout the camp, as far as it would go. "The treaty with the Storm clan was official and is now sealed even more so! Anyone who fights a clansman is treasonous!" He turned back to Cloud, raised his chin slightly, and grabbed the large calloused hand in his own.

Both pairs of blue eyes locked and Marth saw the coldness leave and a new look replace it. Cloud was serious now. He wasn't going to scorn Marth or argue. They had a pressing dilemma and he knew he couldn't bicker and waste time telling Marth he was a no-good ruler. And Marth was glad of this. So glad he let a sort of dry smile pass across his face. And Cloud's mouth twitched back.

It was too late for either of them. Ike, confused and annoyed by the fighting and arguing he had heard occurring in the enemy camp, put his foot down. "The country is not capable of ruling itself," he thundered at his generals. Link and Roy exchanged glances, but nodded.

"When do we move out?" Link prodded sternly, hand loosely holding the handle of his gleaming sword.

"Now."

Roy started and then swallowed. "Very well, sir. Plans?"

"I want you, Link, to go around the left side with your men. Roy, take yours and go around on the right side. I'll attack from the front and we'll crush them against the cliffs jutting out from those mountains. Go prepare yourselves and your men."

Link nodded shortly, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the tent.

Roy hesitated until Ike looked at him in slight confusion, a wrinkle in his forehead showing his annoyance.

"Sir, that young woman. Lucina."

"Yes?"

"She…wishes to leave."

"Let her. We don't keep captives."

"She…her brother is the king."

Ike started. "The…the letter she sent." He whirled to face Roy completely. "She is!" His eyes glinted as he turned and began to pace. "Of course she wants to leave. Well…she can't. Not until the battle's underway at least. Then she can go where she wishes."

Roy was staring hard at the opposite side of the tent, seeming to scrutinize the rough cloth with strange interest. Finally he spoke. "Yes, Ike. Should I constrain her or merely tell her what you said?"

"Don't dream of telling her we'll attack," Ike growled. "Tell her in a few hours she can go. But make sure she has a guard. She'll catch on when she sees our men moving out. Dismissed."

Roy turned and left and Ike strode over to the corner of the tent and grabbed up his huge, golden blade, turning it so the sunlight that streamed through the crack in the tent's opening made it gleam. It would soon be gleaming with red blood and he grunted before grabbing up his horse's bridle and exiting as well.

* * *

Lucina searched the tent furiously, her face burning with anger. How could Roy have done that to her? He knew she was Marth's sister and then, to tell Ike, and have her here where she couldn't warn her brother of the attack that was certainly underway now. Well, she would help where she could.

She finally found a weapon, a large sword that was surprisingly light. She lifted it up, buckled a sheath and belt around her waist and over her shoulder, and pulled on boots over top of the pants. It didn't matter she was dressed in men's clothes. She would probably die trying to protect her brother and her fellow countrymen, and no one would even care she was a woman until after the battle anyhow. And Zelda dressed as a man as well

"I'm coming, Marth," she whispered, slipping out of the tent and rushing to the nearest horse. She threw herself over its back, clambered on and sat up, grabbing the reins and jerking them backwards. The horse snorted in protestation. She kicked it viciously in the sides and a moment later a dust cloud and the thundering of hooves was all that was lefts as she disappeared over the ridge and down towards the valley where the struggle of despair was just beginning.

* * *

Marth felt the steed beneath him tremble violently and his knees clenched on the horse's flanks as he tried to keep his balance. With a shrieking whinny, the horse pitched forward and Marth found himself somersaulting over its head and landing on his feet in a crouch, his bloody sword tip touching the dust.

All around him ran men, screaming and shouting and fighting. Marth brought up his sword and countered a swinging blade, the clang causing his ears to ring. With a grunt he pushed the man back, and with quick strokes brought him to his death. Then he turned to look at his horse. It was as he knew; dead.

Whirling back to the fight going on all around him, Marth spotted someone he knew. The hat. The green, forester-like clothing. The wild, blonde hair. It was that Link man who had entered the palace and killed Ryu.

Eyes burning with fury, Marth leapt forward. Dodging swords and roaring men he countered a few blows, saving his sword strokes for the man up ahead who was even now striking down one of the prince's own soldiers. He wasn't fuzzy with drink now! Let Link taste death as he'd given it to Ryu.

A thundering roar escaped his mouth as he leapt into the air, using another horse's corpse to give him the push off he needed to clear two men caught in a duel. He landed squarely in front of Link. With a twist of his wrist his sword flashed and a moment later Link was in the dirt, his shoulder bleeding.

Marth stabbed down with a vengeance, but he'd underestimated Link. With a grunt of surprise and pain the clansman rolled away and regained his feet, swinging his sword outwards in a wide arc. Marth stepped back, letting the rush of air cool his sweating face briefly before he dashed at Link again.

The blonde was panting from his exertions in the fight. He'd lost his horse within the first ten minutes and the hours that followed had been nonstop bloodshed. He knew it was a miracle he was still alive. And now here was the blue-haired king, coming to kill him. Wonderful.

Distracted by a sudden thought of Pit and then of Zelda and where she was, Link barely avoided a jab, only to realize Marth was attacking with a collection of different slices and a moment later he was in the dust again, this time his arm, put up to block a slice, bleeding as the metal had cut through his thick, leather armband.

"Go back where you belong!" Marth shouted, swinging again. It was wilder swing and Link gained his feet with a leap, sidestepping and stabbing at Marth's unprotected side. With a whirling cape the king knocked away the blade with his sword.

The real fight began as metal against metal resounded, adding to the deafening din, and the two gritted their teeth and fought to the best of their abilities, blocking and swinging and stabbing, using all sword moves they had learned over their years to kill the other.

Marth saw Link's energy waning and it gave him a boost of confidence that brought the swordsman to his knees yet again.

"Strike and kill me then," gasped Link, barely able to see because of the sweat that blinded him.

Marth, panting from the fight, raised his sword and slashed it down at the neck. The resounding clang caught him unawares. As his sword flew from his hands Marth realized that Link had fooled him. Of course no clansman would go down without a fight. Certainly not without a last attempt to block the death swing. And now he was weaponless.

Marth jumped back, his heel catching on a mound of dirt. The tables were turned as Link stood above him, blood staining his shoulder and dripping down the front of his chest. The tip of the blonde's bloody sword was hovering above him, dipping and rising slightly as its owner gasped for breath.

"Goodbye, king. Ike will be a better ruler than you ever were–"

With a groan he was knocked sideways into the dust by a blur of blue. Marth scrambled to his feet, not waiting to recognize his rescuer before he had his sword in his hands. Armed again he looked straight into the dark-blue eyes of his sister.

* * *

Cloud swung his sword out with a grunt. The great blade cleared his path of the three men in front of him. It was almost difficult to kill other clansmen, but it was him or them and right now he would rather have _their_ life blood draining into the ground.

Breathing hard he scanned the area up ahead. There. He knew it. There was no doubting who it was. He drew back his sword and paused, the icy blue eyes glittering.

Ike brought his sword down in front of him with a slam and turned away from the mess he'd just created, kicking the corpse out of his way and looking ahead at the next obstacle. His hair was kept out of his face by his headband, but a slight head wound was blinding him with blood in his eyes.

He still spotted the pair of blue ones staring directly at him. The blonde hair, spiked up in that fashion. The armor and clothing. The bare arms. The giant sword. It was Cloud, he knew. His eyes narrowed and he pulled back his sword, the gold flashing in the sunlight.

* * *

"Lucina?" Marth couldn't believe his eyes. And he didn't have time to.

Link was struggling to his feet, swinging his sword out and barely missing Lucina's ankles.

"Marth!" she exclaimed. "Fight him." Tears streamed down her face as she backed away from the weary Link and let her brother protect her.

Marth's own eyes were watering as he raised his sword. Could it be? Was it a dream? Would he wake up to find it was all a dream?

"How can you still be alive?" he asked. He wasn't attacking Link, waiting to parry the blonde's thrust. He couldn't attack now. It would involve leaving Lucina behind and defenseless. "Luci, stand with your back to mine. How…?" He trailed off, grunting as he blocked a powerful swing of a sword from a clansman other than Link. He stabbed him in the stomach and brought his sword to block a downwards strike from his real nemesis.

Link, thinking furiously despite the fogginess that was trying to block out all logic, backed up after his failed swing and let a few other men distract Marth as he jogged about to kill that blasted sister of his. He'd known since the beginning it would be foolish to rescue her. She was the king's sister and she'd just kept the war from being over sooner rather than later. And where was Zelda?

With a growl Link struck her sword away, cut her hands lightly with his sharp blade, and grabbed her collar, pulling her towards him and away from Marth. With a whirl her back was pressed against his chest, her hands were desperately grasping his bleeding arm and his sword's blade was against her neck.

"Alright, you stupid king!" he roared above the shouting. "You're surrounded by my men, I've got your sister. Drop your sword or I'll kill her. And then you." He gasped for breath after the short tirade, pressing the sword against Lucina's neck until she screeched.

There was a cry and an instant later his sword was grabbed and he was knocked down by the powerful blow of a fist. A redhead's fist. He looked up to see the fuzzy image of Roy above him. One of the general's hands held his brilliant sword and the other held the arm of Lucina as he placed himself in front of her protectively.

Marth, overcome by the change in events and frightened as to what this redheaded clansman might do to his sister, charged with a cry.

"No!" Lucina screamed, holding up her hands and stepping in front of Roy.

Marth skidded to a stop, trying to avoid her even as he attempted to stab the man in the neck. He failed at both attempts, slamming into Lucina and knocking them both to the ground.

Link, furious, found he had just enough strength to leap up and grab Marth by the shoulders, tackling him backwards into the dust.

Marth, weaponless due to his collision with Lucina, found himself struggling with a man who was much more exhausted than he was, but much better equipped and trained for hand-to-hand combat. Still, the match was equal and no one seemed to be interfering and stabbing him. He knew Link's clansmen were all around him and that he hadn't a chance, whether he won or lost…

With a groan Link was kicked off of him. The blonde lay on his back in the blood covered dirt, moaning as his hand pressed against his wounded shoulder. He couldn't stand to keep fighting. Anyway, his men wouldn't let him die.

Roy's voice proved the redhead himself had been the one who had knocked away Link. "King Marth, your sister is safe here. Go and return to your men and remember that you would be dead this day if not for mercy."

Marth picked himself up, grabbed his sword, and staggered backwards. "Luci…" he faltered.

"Go, Marth. Don't die…" She burst into sobs and Marth was shocked to see her lay her head on the redhead's shoulder as she cried harder. Dully he obeyed her, turning and running as fast as he could through the ranks of the clansmen, who didn't move to fight him. What was happening elsewhere?

He burst out into the open finally, realizing small skirmishes were going on all around. The clansmen were exhausted and so was his army. It was almost a small cease-fire, except for the few who were still strong enough to fight. Glancing up he abruptly saw two who were some of those exceptional men that were still going strong. Strong enough to fight at least.

Gripping his sword in his gloved hand he dashed forward to help his clansman general; Cloud.

* * *

 **Longer chapter... A reward for the wait. I hope it was enjoyable. :-) I plan to have more soon...**


	25. A Fight Between Leaders

**To be honest, this is the second to last chapter. The finale. The climax? Take it as you will, I've enjoyed having y'all along for the ride and I encourage you to review final thoughts. Or you can wait until the last chapter... :-P Thanks, guys!**

* * *

The resounding clang as the two giant swords, steel and gold, collided with each other caused the ears of both clan leaders to ring. Ike gritted his teeth as sweat and blood dripped down his face and off his chin, staining the dust a dark color. He pushed Cloud backwards and growled in annoyance as the blonde stayed on his feet, his boots digging into the ground and his knees braced for a leap forward. He was not giving up.

As Cloud charged, Ike found himself staring at him, his sword resting by his side, blade down. This man wouldn't give up. He wouldn't ever give up. That blue spark in his icy eyes... He would die before he surrendered. And so would all his men. This Storm clan was not like Roy's clan and the other clans had been. This clan, if forced to join, would be…a disaster.

With a grunt he heaved up his sword, furious at how heavy it felt, even in his powerful hands. He blocked Cloud's vicious blow and staggered back. Cloud struck again without a pause and Ike ducked and dove beneath the blade, finding himself in the dust for the first time.

The dirt smeared across his face and he pushed himself to his feet, whirling and slamming his sword down towards Cloud, who barely missed being cleaved in half. He swung at Ike again, and the supreme clan leader saw that his face was an unnatural red and his legs were shaking. This man was very angry.

Cloud was _slightly_ angry. Cloud was mostly very _exhausted_ and as the golden blade of his nemesis blocked yet another blow he stepped back, bringing his sword up to rest on his shoulder for ease of swinging and to rest. He couldn't attack anymore. He had done so until he was weary and fatigued and then he had continued attacking, fueled by a source he didn't know. And now, whatever that rush of power had been, it was gone now and he was drained and weary. There was a ringing in his ears, his mind was fuzzy, his throat was dry and parched, and his head ached as if someone was striking it with a heavy cudgel from the inside.

Ike watched him step back with gratefulness. Another strike and he might have gotten injured. He was utterly wasted and it was all he could do to keep from falling to his knees as he raised his sword and let it rest on his shoulder, ready for when Cloud attacked again. He could barely see anything and his head throbbed and pulsed with the ferocious beating of his heart. And these words ran through his head, over and over, in time with the pounding inside: They won't give up. They won't give up. They won't give…up.

The armies were exhausted and there seemed to be a draw and, at least, a lull in the fighting. The two clansmen stared at each other.

Ike felt a rush of air behind him and then whoever it was had burst past and was heading for Cloud. The thin body covered in cloth could only be Sheik—running to kill Cloud. Suddenly the rapid beating of his heart stopped. And then it started again, faster than before.

"Sheik, back!"

She had already swung her chain and as Cloud's sword came down and failed to block it, the metal links wrapped themselves around his neck tightly.

"Sheik, back!" he roared, louder than before.

She turned and their eyes locked, hers a mask of confusion, his pools of anger and desperation.

Cloud frantically fought the chain that was cutting off his air supply and causing a vignette of black to begin obstructing his vision. He clawed at the metal with his fingers, finally jerking it from the masked adversary's loose hands and unwrapping himself. His neck throbbed now and he realized he'd dropped his sword. He bent to pick it up and crashed to his knees beside it instead.

Slowly his head rose and he opened his weary, bloodshot eyes to meet those of Ike. What was he saving his wretched life for? Did he plan to make him an example? Who had won? Where was Marth's army? Where was Marth? What would happen to his clan? To Shulk? To Samus?

"Weak now, aren't we, Cloud?"

The patronizing voice caused Cloud's head to jerk around at stare at the man standing behind him, holding his jagged sword in a strong hand. Corrin. The clansman's eyebrows knit as his fingers felt their way along the dusty ground and grabbed his sword handle. This stupid troublemaker would try to kill his own ally in the midst of a battle?

But it seemed Corrin had not noticed Ike, a greater, fiercer enemy than Cloud, just in front of him. The red eyes glinted abruptly and he dashed past the blonde with a grunt of triumph.

Ike grasped at his handle and prepared himself for a powerful swing to kill this man. The man never reached him. With a disturbing silence Sheik stepped in front of Ike and hurled three daggers at the man prepared to kill her leader.

Each struck home: stomach, chest, throat. Corrin staggered forward and the swing he had prepared, the last swing of his life, caught Sheik off guard. The silent one, Link's second-in-command….Zelda, suddenly screamed in pain as the saw-like edges of Corrin's golden blade tore through skin and muscle and she crumpled in the dirt before Ike's horror-filled eyes.

* * *

Through a haze of weariness, as one of his men forced him to drink from a skin of warm water, her husband recognized her voice; her cry of terror. His heart jolted.

* * *

Marth burst in front of Cloud with a cry and stood there, standing as tall as he could, his sword pointed straight at Ike. "Leave us alone!" he shouted.

"Stupid prince," growled Cloud. "The powerful Ike can't even stand up on his own feet."

Marth's gaze didn't waver from Ike's steady one. "Please. Go back where you came from. You don't need more land. And all you'll be doing, if you ever would win, is losing more men than I know you'd care to."

"You're not Robin," said Ike quietly, but his voice was deep and easily heard.

"I am Marth."

Ike knew it wasn't Robin. But he wanted this Marth to know that, too. He wanted this Marth to know that he had only wanted to take land from Robin, not Robin's people or Robin's…nephew.

"You know," Ike grunted, forcing himself to stand and staggering slightly as he hefted up his giant blade, "you could have killed me just now."

"If you kill another one of my men, I'll regret my decision not to," said Marth evenly.

Ike looked sorrowfully down at Zelda, lying at his feet. He didn't even know if she was dead or alive yet. "Roy!"

The red head stepped past Marth, releasing Lucina's hand and leaving her to cling to her brother's arm.

Lucina held Ike's gaze and finally it was the clansman who broke the stare and turned to Roy. "Blow the horn. Call them back."

Marth's eyes shut wearily as the deep, bass of the horn resounded against the sides of the mountains and slowly the dull clamor drew to a complete standstill. Slowly men began gathering, clansmen behind Ike, and soldiers and clansmen alike behind their prince and their leader.

Marth opened his eyes and glanced behind him at the tall figure of Cloud, who had regained his feet. The icy blue eyes were brimming with tears and Marth's cerulean ones filled as well. It was over.

For now.

"This isn't over," Ike growled, wiping clumsily at the blood drying on his forehead. "I want a meeting under a flag of truce."

"That can certainly be arranged," said Cloud stiffly.

Ike looked at him for a long time and then turned his gaze to Marth, and from the king to his sister.

"Lucina, you wish to stay with your brother, don't you," he prompted.

She opened her mouth and her dark eyes locked with Roy's. And she wondered if she did. He looked back earnestly, his eyebrows knit. Then he realized she was looking at him and he gave a small smile and tentative bow.

"For now," she answered.

Marth seemed astonished by the answer. Cloud didn't care. And the struggle of despair ended.

* * *

Link threw himself down beside his wife, gathering her up in his arms.

"Leave her alone." A clansman grabbed his shoulders.

"Go away!" Link screamed at him. "Can't you see she's dead? Dead like my son? Dead like—"

"She's not dead, but she will be soon if you don't let the doctors tend her," said Roy, calling for help.

And Link allowed himself to be torn from his beloved. Her eyes fluttered open briefly as she was placed on a stretcher of cloth and she stretched out a gloved hand to him. "I love you," she whispered weakly.

Tears streaming from the eyes of one of the strongest men in Ike's army, they bore her away.

* * *

 **Satisfied? Happy? Sad? Angry?**

 **;-P**

 **See you soon for the final chapter!**


	26. An End to the Struggle

**Boom. Done. Yes. I can only hope y'all enjoyed it. Thanks for all your reviews!**

* * *

"How are you, Reflet?" Marth asked honestly, carefully holding her gaze.

The face seemed to have aged so much in the past weeks and he felt such overwhelming sorrow for her, even though she was a murderer.

"I'm very grateful, nephew," she said quietly. She deftly traced the design on the front of her book as she continued. "I know I've done quite a bit of wrong and I've blamed you for things and…but I hope you will forgive me and perhaps allow me start again as an aunt you can come to when you have questions and perhaps one who will be able to dawdle your children on her knees…when you have them."

Marth went forward and gave her a gentle embrace. "I certainly will."

She gave him a simple smile and he put out his hand. "Now I ask you, will you help me draft a letter?"

"For what?"

"For Roy and Lucina. Blessing on their marriage. Hope that it goes as well as…it possibly could."

Reflet abruptly smiled. "Yes. I will help."

* * *

"Perhaps you would even allow him to call you 'uncle'," Link suggested, grinning broadly.

Ike, strangely uncomfortable holding such a tiny, fragile creature in his huge, burly arms, snorted. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps we could call him…Pit," suggested Zelda.

Link put his arm around her. "I think that would be a grand idea, darling. Pit."

Ike looked up. "Pit wants his mother."

Zelda stood and took her child from the leader's arms with a tinkling laugh. "You're a dear, Ike."

"Don't say such things," he growled. "Not to my face and certainly not when it's an absolute falsehood."

Zelda gave him a smile, tossed Link a wink, and exited the tent.

"Link," said Ike, standing abruptly. "I want to give you and Zelda both a gift that will probably turn out to be a curse if you don't handle it properly. It is an optional gift, but…I can't think of anyone more deserving of it and responsible enough to handle its…enormity."

Link's eyebrows rose and he drummed his fingers on the table in front of him. "Your old tent? Your sword? An invitation to Roy's wedding?"

"You already have the last thing," chuckled Ike. "Palutena's old kingdom."

"Me?"

"Zelda and you both, as king and queen. It is responsibility and…difficult to rule, ask myself, Marth, or even Cloud. But I think you could handle it. You'd live in her palace, a nice place since they fixed it up…and…"

Link blinked and stammered for a reply. "That's too generous…What would Zelda say? I mean, but I would be honored, Ike."

The clansman smiled, flashing white teeth and put out his hand. Link shook it in a daze.

"See how I have divided things," Ike boasted. "Cloud in the mountains, Marth on one side, me on the other, and you below it in your own kingdom."

"Would I still be under you?"

"No. No, you would not. Which is something I foresee that our descendants will later regret. Or perhaps it will keep countries from entangling in domestic affairs. Either way, that's that."

"Then I thank you." They shook hands again.

* * *

The gray clouds of smoke whirled away from the brick chimneys, billowing over the thatched roofs, and dissolving into non existence. A breeze blew fiercely and then calmly from between the rocky cliffs that flanked the entire left side of the mountain town. The gurgling sound of the river that ran straight through the center of the city matched the merry laughter of children as they ran and played. The gentle chatter of the women as they bargained over purchases and chatted in the market mixed with the twitter of birds, the barks of dogs, and the nickers of the many steeds that grazed beyond the town in the pastures.

"Cloud."

The icy-eyed warrior turned to his white-haired friend. "What is it, Shulk?"

"A message."

Cloud smiled. "Thank you." He took the folded parchment, turned it over, and broke the seal.

"What does it say?" Samus' slender fingers squeezed his shoulders as she came up behind him.

"You wish to go?"

She read it as well. "A wedding? Between two people that should never have gotten married whom we hardly know?" She smiled at her husband. "Certainly. No war. No despair. We are free to go to a wedding."

He kissed her gently. "Yes, we are."

* * *

 **I just had to do Cloud/Samus. Clamus. o_O**

 **Until the next story, which I am very excited for. Thank you all.**


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